Bless My Body, Bless My Soul
by TheKennethAnger
Summary: Ed and Al battle against the perils of Nazi Germany while Winry deals with her own heavy-hearted complications in Amestris. But they'll survive- or die trying. Very long story, Multiple pairings, Re-post/Re-edit of old story.
1. Love, the Destroyer of Worlds

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do not own the manga/anime characters, plots, or creation.

***I have posted this story in its entirety before then went through a phase of not wanting any of my writings accessible because blah blah who cares. I have decided to post this once again, grammar modified (as it was previously written fucking atrociously), and have changed my account name back to TheKennethAnger- that means I'm back, bitches.**

I am bending the story and incorporating the manga and the anime(s) based on my preference. I base my story around the first anime ending rather the second anime (though the end in this series is also integrated) or the manga ending- either way resulting in my hate of Hohenheim's way of dying in the movie, my hate of Mei and Noah, and Mustang's eye patch (eye patch will be excluded)- and I also highly integrate the post _Conqueror of Shamballa_-I hate Izumi died in that movie so I will exclude that fact- in my fictional storyline. I will try to make this story coincide with fact as far as the timing and occurrences, but I'm going to make a bunch of shit up too. Also, I would like to firmly indicate this fanfiction is **rated M** for a reason. It has dismaying imagery in relation to the brutality of Nazi Germany, contains a massive amount of cursing, sexual implications (though I don't go into details because I will not write graphic sex scenes- merely implications), violence, alcohol abuse and angst. **But don't think this story is all darkness and no light**. There's still happiness, redemption, family and friends, healing, love, acceptance, and forgiveness. So I hope this story grips you more than bums you out. Relish.

**Bless My Body, Bless My Soul**

**By TheKennethAnger**

Chapter 1: Love, the Destroyer of Worlds

**Quid me nutrit me destruit** - **What nourishes me also destroys me**.

_Germany, January 13, 1941_

"Everything I said to her is tearing me apart."

Alphonse turned to look at his brother. Edward looked to the sunset, memorizing the whirls of rose and ginger the sun shed over the rolling hills. With the soft call of his name, Ed merely shook his head. He subconsciously gripped his automail and sat on the lightly snow-dusted grass. He folded his mismatched arms, resting them atop his tucked knees, and sighed heavily. The wind picked up and the Elric brothers' long hair wafted about.

Al sat on the ground beside Ed, also fixing his gaze on the distance, "Well, everything she said to you is probably tearing her apart, Brother."

Ed gripped his automail tighter, "I can't blame her; it was my fault. I couldn't tell her the one thing she wanted to hear. I couldn't make her the promise she asked for."

"Ed, you just didn't want to make a promise you would never be able to keep. We both know there's no way out of this world," Al turned to look at his brother, "not now."

"I just don't want her to…_wait on me_. She deserves someone tangible, you know?" Ed smiled despite himself.

Al pulled his sleeves over his hands in an attempt to hide from the cold, "You don't have to front, Ed. I know you're saddened at the idea of Winry finding somebody else. But I have a feeling that's not what's upsetting you the most."

Edward glanced at Alphonse and pushed himself off the ground," Come on, Al. We need to get back to the Roma camp; they should be ready to leave any moment."

Al stood and followed Ed, "I'm surprised Noah was still aware of where the other Roma were."

"I don't think she was," Ed ventured. "I think she found a different group when we went to…whatever the hell that city was."

"Well, look at the bright side," Al teased, "Noah's totally in love with you. You and she could be together."

Ed spun around, "Alphonse, that's not funny!"

Al's demeanor dropped, "I was just joking, Ed."

Ed heaved his coat higher over his shoulders, "I don't give a fuck about finding someone here. No matter who I find, they'll never compare to Winry."

"Ah, now I see," Al smiled.

Ed turned his head towards his brother and narrowed his eyes, "You are the nosiest little spectator…"

Al laughed, "Oh, please, I'm not little!"

"Well neither am I!" Ed countered.

"If I recall correctly, for years you were the size of an-"

"Don't say it, Alphonse!"

"-pint-sized-"

Ed shook his fist at Al, "You better not say it!"

"-petite-"

"So help me, Al!"

"-itsy bitsy-"

"One more word…"

Al leaned towards Edward until their noses were almost touching, "-gnome."

"Ahhh!" Edward tackled Al and began shaking his younger brother by the shoulders against the ground, "I was only small because you were small! I couldn't help it! You think it was easy being teased everywhere I went? No, it wasn't!" Al laughed loudly, "Laugh, will you? Well I'm taller than you now, so eat that! Feast on it! Feast, I say!"

Al laughed louder, "I'm not sensitive about my height like you. Besides, isn't it about time you got over it?"

"What are you two arguing about this time?" asked Emilien Holiday, one of the few men with the Roma.

Ed stopped shaking his brother as Al laughed, "Brother has a stature complex. I don't think he'll ever overcome it."

Emilien remarked, "But…Though Alphonse is a couple inches shorter, you two, in comparison to the general population, are giants."

Ed stood up and pointed an angry finger, "What are you tryin' to say Emilien? You callin' us colossal beanstalk freaks?"

Al was red in the face from giggling, "That's not what he said, Brother. You're impossible! Now you're getting mad you're tall?"

"Are you saying-" Ed took a deep breath and straightened his jacket, "- no I'm fine."

Al smirked and Emilien commented, "I will never understand you two; you're so weird."

Ed smirked as Al's smirk turned into a smile. They looked at each other. "You have no idea," the two said in unison.

Emilien sported an odd face, "I just came to gather you two. We're ready to leave." The Elric brothers nodded and began to follow him, "We're going to Moosach."

"How far is that?" Al questioned.

"Moosach is about fifteen miles away. It will take probably about two hours, maybe three," Emilien answered. "Hopefully you two will learn to quit fighting by then."

"What do you mean 'by then'?" Ed raised an eyebrow.

Emilien grinned over his shoulder, "My niece, Luminista, will be meeting up with us. She's from England and has traveled quite a ways, so tackle fights should be kept at a minimum."

"Of course, sir" Al replied.

Ed turned towards Al and mouthed 'suck up.'

Once the three made it back to camp, Emilien went to help the women get into the cart. This is when Alphonse took the chance to smack Ed in the back of the head for calling him a suck up. Then Ed slapped the back of Al's head in return. Ed turned to walk away but Al smacked him in the back of the head again as he ran by. Once the brothers got on the cart and the horses began trotting, Edward slapped Al in the back of the head. Al's eyes narrowed playfully and he slapped the back of Ed's head once more. Ed returned the gift. After a few more slaps, the brother's didn't even have a second between smacking each other's head. When they realized everyone in the cart and the cart behind them were staring at their bizarre and immature behavior they stopped and leaned back against the railing of the carts. The Roma, now familiarized with the brothers' antics, simply shook their heads and returned talking to one another. Edward drifted to sleep after half an hour or so.

"It's about time he got some rest," Noah commented from the corner beside Alphonse, "I've noticed he hasn't been sleeping very well since he came back with you."

Alphonse smiled over his shoulder, "He's just been upset about something that happened in our world last we were there."

"What was it?" Noah sat up straight.

Alphonse's eyes softened, "It's not my place to say."

After a few moments of silence between the two, Edward whispered 'Winry, don't, please'.

"He says that name in his sleep a lot. It's a strange name. Who is she?" Noah's eyes saddened.

Alphonse, against his nature, thought _that was rude, insulting Winry's name_, but replied, "Winry is our childhood friend. We lived with her and her grandmother when we were young. She's like our sister and she was also Ed's automail engineer. We love her very much." Al smiled, "I should correct, she's like my sister. Ed and she have a different type of relationship."

Noah pressed, "They had romantic feelings for one another?"

Alphonse looked away from Noah towards the starry night sky without answering. He wondered what Noah's train of thought was leading to. He looked down to his slumbering brother hunched against the cart railing. Seeing his eyebrows crease, Edward, nearly inaudibly, mumbled 'Winry' and shuffled towards Alphonse (as he was a source of heat against the freezing night) and Al heard 'sorry'.

Noah tapped him on the shoulder, "It's been a few months since you two have been in this world since the gate fiasco. Is Edward…over her?"

Alphonse's head snapped around and his remark proved to have the same attitude, "They were in love for years. Ed's still profoundly in love with Winry and she is in love with him. That won't change, no matter how much time passes." Noah began to say something, but Alphonse, feeling suddenly protective of Edward and Winry and their relationship, cut her off, "Ed only wants Winry and he has no eyes for anybody else. He never will."

Alphonse turned his head back around towards Ed. Though he felt somewhat ashamed for being snippy, he would defend Winry and his brother no matter what. Ed's face scrunched up and he made a sniveling noise. _Oh, Ed, how are you going to survive without Winry?_ Ed slept through most of the ride to Mooslach and stretched out when he awoke.

"How far are we, Alphonse?" Ed asked sleepily.

"Probably about twenty minutes or so," Al looked up at the clear deep where the stars sparkled like fireworks, as if watching over Ed and him like luminescent angels.

Ed noted his brother's distracted behavior and to question him later. After the wooden carts continued to bounce on the jarring road made of dirt and silvery snow, they finally made it to Mooslach. A couple miles near the city, the Roma set up camp. Alphonse assisted Emilien in unloading the equipment with the other Roma. Ed was helping until Noah pulled him to the side by the arm.

"Edward," Noah grinned with shining eyes, "Alphonse told me who this Winry girl you're always mumbling in your sleep about-"

"It's none of your concern, Noah," Ed frowned.

Noah incorrectly felt compelled to coerce information about his feelings in hope of having a relationship of her own with Ed, "Edward, you can overcome these feelings and fall in love again. You'll have another shot at happiness and-"

Ed slammed his hand onto the already unloaded cart, grabbing everyone's attention. Knowing all the eyes of the Roma and his brother were on Noah and him, he stepped closer to Noah and looked down at her. His face was full of irritation and malice. His shoulders were tensed and hands remained fisted.

He spoke only loud enough for Noah to hear, "I don't want to fall in love again. I don't want another shot at happiness." His voice became even deeper and angrier as he spoke through gritted teeth, "I sure as hell don't want to _overcome_ any fucking feelings for Winry. And if you ever talk about her as if she is insignificant, to me or as an individual, again, you will regret it." He began to turn away, still with everyone's eyes fixed on them, but turned back towards Noah and whispered, "Winry is the only woman I want and the only woman I will ever want." Ed went to walk off but turned around once more, "_And_ I was awake the other night when you were trying to look into my dreams. Stop prying and don't touch me again. Is that clear?"

Noah just nodded her head, her eyes shining with disappointment and fear. He walked through the throng of Roma as if they weren't staring at him. He passed Al and made eye contact. Al simply nodded his head and Edward walked into the night. The Roma first observed Noah's visage and then looked to Alphonse. He also pretended like no one was looking at him and carried on with unloading the second cart. After about an hour, the tension seemed to dissolve but Edward had not returned.

Emilien sat beside Al, "So what happened a few minutes ago?"

Al gave a weak smile, "Noah wants Ed to talk about his feelings. Ed's never been good in that area, but even if he was, Noah's picked the one subject Ed will never discuss."

"I don't want to anger you, so you can tell me nothing," Emilien looked at his clasped, calloused hands, "but what subject are you referring to?"

Alphonse's smile was full of pain when he turned to Emilien, then he crooked his head to scan the direction in which Ed disappeared, "The love of his life."

Emilien followed Al's scrutiny, "Oh."

Alphonse hoisted himself from the snow coated soil. Without a word, Al wandered from the camp and followed Ed's footprints in the snow. He glimpsed around for his brother while he trailed the footprints, only to trip face first into the icy earth.

Without fully lifting himself off the terrain or viewing the source of his trip, Al groaned, "Ed, why are you lying on the ground?"

Al brushed the snow off his vest and jacket and he twirled around to look at his older brother. Al's face utterly dropped when he saw Ed's right arm thrown over his face, sheltering his eyes. Snow lightly dusted him but he showed no acknowledgment of it. His left fist was closed.

Silence engulfed them until Al couldn't take it, "What did she say?"

Ed scoffed and answered shakily, "That I could find somebody else to love and have another shot at happiness. Fuck her. It's her personal agenda that I have no interest in." Ed sat up, "Besides, I have too many other things on my mind to dwell on her cluelessness." Ed pulled up the sleeve of his long-sleeved undershirt and the sleeve of his crisp white shirt, followed by the jacket sleeve. Ed bit his lip as he placed his left hand on his automail, "Doesn't this suck? All I have left of her…" Ed shook his head, "I'm sorry, Brother. I should just be happy we're together."

"Not everything is about us, Ed. I mean, I miss Mei," Al laid a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"I know," Ed sighed, "I'm being selfish."

"Maybe a little," Al smiled, "but you and Winry have a special-"

"What you and Mei have is special too, Al."

Al looked at Edward's shoes, "I don't know if I am in love with Mei, Brother."

Ed looked at him with surprise, "Huh? Oh, ok."

Al lay back onto the ground as Ed had earlier and Ed lay back again, "So what's these other things you're thinking about?

"Well, I was going to ask you if you were ok because you looked aloof on the cart," Ed ventured, "but now I know why." Ed sighed deeply and spoke quietly, "I'm also concerned about this atomic bomb we've been hearing about. If it can do what everyone says it can, this world's in deep shit."

"Yeah," Al agreed. "I know there's more. Start talking."

Ed turned his head towards Al and Al returned the gesture, "Mein Kampf."

Al's eyes furrowed, "That book Antisocial Personality Adolf wrote?"

Ed closed his eyes, "Yes. It's quite disturbing. Disgusting is maybe the more proper term. I'm afraid for this world." Ed opened his eyes again, "I'm afraid that we're a part of it."

Al weakly smiled, "I've never heard you admit fear, Ed."

Ed sighed, "We're powerless here, Al. We can't make a difference like we did in Amestris; it's not the fucking same in this world."

Al's frail smile plunged, "Well, you just managed to shear any delight I could have felt today."

Ed locked eyes, "I'm terrifically dismal, aren't I?"

"A bit." Al turned onto his side, bending his arm under his head, "You never let me elaborate earlier today."

Ed's face crunched, "On what?"

"My comments."

"Uh huh, just what are you talking about?"

"About Winry."

"I'd prefer not to deliberate on Winry at this point." Al reached out and flicked Ed on the nose, "What the hell was that for?"

"For playing dumb. I see through your mask, Brother. I could tell when we were talking and you said Winry deserves someone who's there for her. You thought you tricked me into believing that was your wishes. I know you hate the idea. And more than her finding someone else, you hate that you may never see her again. I get that you would rather see her with somebody else than never seeing her again."

Ed sat up, "Maybe. But that doesn't change that I want her to be happy, even if it can't be with me."

Edward stood and began trekking towards camp as Alphonse alleged to himself, "What an idiot. All Winry wants is you." Alphonse erected himself and followed his older brother, "And you'll see that when we get back home."


	2. Devotion

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do not own the manga/anime characters, plots, or creation.

**Bless My Body, Bless My Soul**

**By TheKennethAnger**

Chapter 2: Devotion

**Ut incepit fidelis sic permanet - As loyal as she began, so she remains**

_Central, Amestris, February 27, 1941_

"Oh, Miss Gracia, everything I said to him is still tearing me apart."

Gracia closed the door to Elysia's room, having just put her daughter to bed. She walked around the kitchen table and took a seat beside Winry. Her lips formed a thin line as she realized Winry's hands were shaking slightly and she was biting her lip.

"Now Winry, dear, don't cry," Gracia clasped her hand over the younger woman's hand.

Winry held onto Gracia's hand and reclined against the wooden chair. Her blonde tresses poured over the back of the seat and she stared through blurry eyes at the far wall. She took a deep sigh and gripped Gracia's hand harder.

"I just…never mind. I'll be ok," Winry smiled through her tears.

Gracia sadly smiled back, "I know you and Edward had an argument before he left, but I'm here if you're ever ready to talk about it."

"I'm just at odds with myself. I'm ambivalent about how I feel. I'm confused and angry and lost, but I'm also hurt and depressed and-and- I feel guilty," Winry sat up again. "It's like suddenly my and Ed's relationship is complicated and full of things we didn't say, or didn't do, but we should have."

Gracia stands up to get Winry a tissue, "Please don't repeat this, but I think you should go to Riza Hawkeye."

Winry took the tissue, "Why?"

"From what Maes would tell me, Riza knows a thing or two about complex relationships and things unsaid," Gracia took her seat again.

Winry turned in her seat to look at Gracia, "Complex relationship? With who?"

Gracia grinned, "Roy Mustang."

"Oh, I see," Winry said quietly. "Do you think I could go and find her tomorrow at Central Command?"

Gracia thought for a moment, "Ever since she got promoted to Lieutenant Colonel, she does even more work than before. And that's saying a lot. So she may be pretty busy, but you should go in tomorrow and check into it. After all, at some point or another, she'll break for lunch. I think."

Winry stood up, "I hope so. Thanks again for letting me stay here the past few nights while I work on my client's automail."

"No need for thanks, it's my pleasure. And Elysia will never get sick of you coming over," Gracia stood too.

Winry yawned, "I guess I'm going to bed so I can get up early and go to Central Command."

The two women left the kitchen and began splitting ways before Winry commented aloud, "It's bizarre, you know? Being in Central and Al and Ed not being here."

Gracia looked back at her, "They're still here, Winry."

Winry smiled to herself.

The next morning Winry arose earlier than she planned and bounded for the door after she got ready. With her hand on the handle, she said 'oh' and turned around, instinctively, to clutch her automail container. The sleepiness suddenly wore away when she froze with her hand on the handgrip. After a couple moments she released the grip as though she put her hand on a hotplate. She didn't need her automail equipment at Central since Ed and Al were no longer there. Her mouth twitched as she reminded herself _I will not cry. Ed and Al hate making me cry. I will not cry_. Winry rose with strong legs, grabbed her purse from the coffee table, and marched all the way to Central Command.

Winry took a deep breath and entered the building. She asked the desk clerk where Riza Hawkeye's office was and the clerk gave directions. Winry nodded a thank you and began her long trek through Central Command. She almost rounded a corner when Breda came around the corner and banged into her. She lost her footing, letting out a small yelp, and fell to the floor. _I hope that won't hurt me. Thank God I'm wearing pants today._

"Miss Rockbell!" Breda rushed to help her up. "My bad, I didn't know you were there."

Winry accepted his help and got back to her feet, "It's ok, I wasn't really paying attention, Lieutenant."

"Lieutenant Breda! I just told you no stops to Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye's office!"

"Uh well, I was going-"

"I can hear you! That means you've stopped!

Winry interrupted, "He was helping me-" Winry walked beyond the corner only to be met with sharp black eyes. "Oh, Brigadier General Mustang!"

Roy's eyes widened with surprise, "Miss Rockbell…"

Winry looked at Breda then Mustang, "I told you guys that you can call me Winry."

"Um, alright," Roy took a moment to process Winry was there since she had only been seen twice- for about a week after Ed disappeared and then another week after Ed left with Al- in Central in near five months.

Breda spoke up, "Well it was nice seeing you Winry, and sorry again for knocking you down."

"Don't sweat it," Winry smiled.

Breda hurried in the other direction as Roy walked towards Winry. A million thoughts flew like canaries in his mind, "Is something wrong?"

Winry blinked, "No, no. Well…kind of."

"Can I help?" Roy's knees stiffened at the thought that she could be in danger. _Not her too…_

"Not really. I was looking for Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye. I just need to ask her advice about something," Winry smiled.

Roy's eyebrow rose, "You came all the way to Central to converse with Hawkeye?"

Winry looked at the floor, "No. I came on business and to visit Miss Gracia and Elysia but I wanted to talk to someone who could understand what I'm going through." She spoke more softly, "I'm just having a…rough time. About Ed."

Roy's fists tightened, "Oh. Well you passed up Hawkeye's office; sixth door down this hall." Roy pointed down the hall Breda went.

"Thank you, Brigadier General," Winry said quietly and turned on her heel.

"No problem, Winry."

She spun around, "Wait! There is something you can help me with. About Al."

Roy motioned her to follow him. They walked to his empty office. Winry sat on one of the seats littering the room and Roy closed the door. He walked in front of Winry and leaned on his desk, folding his arms, and his face donned a serious expression. That's when she noticed something was off. Usually one of impeccable dress, his jacket was stained with red wine and the white shirt underneath the uniform had a red smear on its crinkled surface. His hair was awkwardly knotted and shining as if he hadn't washed it in days. The most surprising part of his presence was the stubble on his face. Something was wrong.

Winry forced herself to look directly into his eyes, "How did you feel when Mr. Hughes died?" Roy's breath hitched Winry noted.

"Sorrowful," Roy unobtrusively stated. "Like a piece of my life was gone."

Winry bit back her tears, "How did you deal with it? I just need to find some way…I don't know how to deal with it."

Roy remained silent for a few moments, "After Ishval, Hughes told me life's too short to hold a fistful of anger and guilt in my chest. For some reason, about a year after his death I remembered he said that to me. He was right."

Silence enveloped the room as the words sunk in until Winry broke eye contact with Roy and stood up, "Thank you, Brigadier General."

Winry left the room, closing the door behind her as Roy took in a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair.

Winry began navigating her way to Riza's office. She almost ran into Breda leaving the office.

He jumped backwards, "Ah! Ok, we need to wear bells or something."

Winry smiled, all traces of sadness absent, "Sounds like a plan, Lieutenant."

Breda and she passed one another. Winry peered into the room to see Riza looking down at a stack of papers on her desk, a pen in hand. Winry also observed the dark circles around her eyes and the pieces of hair that had fallen from her clip. She looked exhausted and like she wanted to storm out of the building.

Winry rapped on the door, "Miss Riza…"

Riza's head snapped up and met Winry's eyes, "It's been a while, Winry."

Winry grinned, "Yes, ma'am, it has."

The corners of Riza's lips tipped up and she motioned for Winry to come in, "How are you doing?"

"Honestly? Not so good," Winry bit her lip. "I was visiting Miss Gracia and decided I should come and ask you for advice about Ed."

Riza's brows creased, "About Ed?" Winry nodded. "Well, we won't be able to talk very long while I'm working. Would you like to come to my apartment tonight and talk?"

"Sure," Riza gave Winry directions and a phone number. Winry gave her thanks and as she was about to leave, she asked, "Does it feel weird not being in the same office as the Brigadier General?"

Riza looked back to her papers, "I don't know."

Winry cocked her head in astonishment, "Well, I'll see you later tonight…"

"See you, Winry," Riza waved her hand.

Before Winry had enough time to analyze Riza's unexpected answer, she saw Alex Armstrong. _Oh no_, Winry screeched to an abrupt halt. She looked for an escape root- alas, it was too late.

"Miss Rockbell! Greetings and salutations!" Armstrong seemed to float through the distance between Winry and him.

"Uh, hi, Major Armstrong," if Winry had any words to follow the reception, they were choked down as she was squeezed into a python arrest.

"Oh, Miss Rockbell! I haven't seen your bushy-tailed face in far too long!" Armstrong laughed.

Kain Fuery looked to his right as he stepped off the elevator, "Major Armstrong! What are you doing?" This is when he noticed Winry trying to yell for help.

Major Armstrong mirthfully swung Winry around like a rag doll, "Oh, Sergeant Major Fuery, Miss Rockbell and her old hat face has returned!"

Winry gasped, "My what?"

Fuery questioned, "Her what?"

"This is most pleasant!" Armstrong released Winry, who took a nice big breath and placed her hand on the closest wall while grabbing the cloth over her chest.

Fuery uncomfortably laughed and walked towards the pair, "Major, didn't the Brigadier General need you?"

"Ah, yes, young bosom buddy! I shall return!" Armstrong glided down the hallway.

Fuery turned his scrunched up face and said to nobody particular, "Did he just call me bosom buddy?"

Winry gasped, "Mr. Armstrong is a nice man, but he's overzealous."

Fuery turned to Winry and shifted the stack of papers he held to the side, "Are you ok, Miss Rockbell?"

Winry stood up straight, "Yes, just a little out of breath. And you can call me Winry. Thanks for the save."

Fuery snickered, "He is a bit much. And you're welcome. As far as returning, I'll just tell him you were in a hurry."

Winry smiled in appreciation. Fuery and Winry began walking to the end of the hallway towards the elevator.

"Has something happened between Brigadier General Mustang and Miss Riza?"

Fuery turned to her, "We're not sure. They're acting atypically with each other but neither one of them has said anything and nobody's heard anything. But there was a lockdown here in command the other day and the Lieutenant Colonel ran from her office to Brigadier General Mustang's with her gun in hand. So she's still protecting him and he's still checking on her…"

They reached the elevator, "That is odd. Well if anything goes wrong-"

Armstrong's voice resonated down the hall and Fuery nodded his head while Winry jumped into the elevator and began jamming the first floor button repeatedly. She said her goodbye right as the doors shut. _Close one_.

Winry, prepared to go back to Gracia's house, left the building only to run into Rebecca Catalina, "Miss Rockbell!"

Winry interrupted, "Call me Winry."

"Sure. What're you doing here?" Rebecca readjusted her ponytail.

Winry wiped her bangs from her forehead, "Lately I seem to be running in to everybody I know here."

"Didn't mean to put a damper on your day," Rebecca smiled.

Winry laughed, "Well would you like to escort me out of here?"

"Sure thing, Winry."

"So what have you been up to?" Winry began walking.

Rebecca walked beside her, "Military shit. I've been confined here until they find a mission for me to partake in." She looked at Winry, "Ok, so, you're obviously not listening."

Winry looked at her, "Sorry. I'm very distracted about tons of things."

"Feel free to tell me shut the hell up, but what's the distractions?" Rebecca looked ahead.

Winry sighed, "Al and Ed and the Brigadier General and Lieutenant Colonel. All of it's jumbling in my brain and I just can't think straight. And everything's jumbled more after Major Armstrong made me his personal raddle."

"That guy needs some morphine," Rebecca remarked. "And Mustang and Hawkeye? Yeah, everybody's trying to figure out what's wrong with those two. About a month or something like that ago, they started acting like they barely knew each other."

Winry's submitted, "But they're really close. What do you think happened?"

Rebecca waved to a fellow subordinate, "Well I called Havoc," Winry glanced at her, "yeah, yeah, everybody thinks I have a crush on him, screw that, I told him that they were acting like they'd just met. So he called Breda and Breda told him that on the Thursday of that week, they were acting normal, but then on Friday, they were ignoring each other." Winry made an 'hm' sound. "Yeah, so, and don't go spreading this around because I don't think anyone but me has noticed, but when I asked Hawkeye what was going on the next Monday, she pretty much, you know, with her nonchalant attitude, blew me off and was like 'nothing, nothing'. Then the phone started ringing and when she reached to answer it, I saw a bruise around the left side of her wrist and the top of her hand."

Winry cocked her head, "Are you implying that he's committing Lieutenant Colonel abuse?"

Rebecca slapped her own face, "No, Hawkeye could kick his ass!"

Winry firmly stated, "That bruise could be from anything, Lieutenant."

"I call you Winry, you call me Rebecca," Rebecca said.

"Ok," Winry restated, "That bruise could be from anything, Rebecca."

Rebecca's eyes fixed in front of her, "A bruise in the shape of a hand? I don't think so."

The two women fell into silence until Winry commented, "You know, Rebecca, even if the bruise was a handprint, you don't know the Brigadier General made it."

Rebecca sighed, "Who else does Hawkeye let get that close to her?"

"She could have had a surprise attack and someone gripped it."

"No way."

"Why not?"

"Because if that happened, the assailant would have either been shot or would have gotten away. And she didn't report anything. If he'd been shot, he would've been in a hospital waiting to be arrested or dead. If he'd gotten away, Mustang would have been tearin' this city up to find him."

"Maybe he accidentally grabbed her too hard to pull her somewhere or pulled her out of the way of a speeding car or something."

'Then why are they acting so weird? Look, I'm not saying Mustang did it on purpose, I just think they got into some kind of a fight and he accidentally made that bruise. And that's why they're acting the way they are."

The women reached the street and turned to each other. Winry pursed her lips, "I guess that's a possibility. But you still can't be sure."

Winry wasted the rest of the day playing with Elysia and going to the market with the Hughes and cooking. After dinner, Winry wrapped up a plate of food to take to Riza. Saying her farewell to Gracia, Winry headed the short distance to Riza's apartment.

Winry knocked on the door and the sound of Hayate barking met her ears, followed by a command by Riza, to which the dog quieted to. Riza opened the door dressed in a black turtleneck and khaki pants with a bowl of dog food in her hand.

"Hello, Winry," Hawkeye moved to let her in the apartment, "sorry it's a mess, I just got in."

"No problem, Miss Riza, you should see my room back in Rush Valley. Automail and tools are everywhere." She mumbled to herself, "And let's not forget all my clothes, shoes, and dirty glasses."

Riza smiled and closed the door, locking it. She walked to the linoleum of the small kitchen and set the bowl of food down. Hayate attacked the food immediately. Riza gently smiled before going to sit on the cozy couch against the far wall. Winry took a seat beside her.

"How is Gracia and Elysia?" Riza kept her eyes fixed on Hayate.

"They're fine. Miss Gracia cooking great food as usual, some of which I brought you," Winry leapt from the couch to get into the duffle bag she placed on the kitchen table. She pulled it out and held it out for Riza to take.

Riza felt a tug on the corners of her mouth as she took the plate and stood up. Riza pulled the plastic off the plate and deposited it on the kitchen countertop, thankful it was still warm. Riza retrieved a fork and poured herself a glass of water. She took the meal back to the couch and set the water on the coffee table.

"Thank you, Winry, I hadn't eaten yet," Riza stuffed a bite of food in her mouth. Swallowing she added, "and give my thanks to Gracia."

"I will," Winry leaned against the back of the couch, resting her head against the top of the panel. Hayate dove into Winry's lap and started sniffing her.

"No, Hayate, bad," Riza was about to set down her plate when Winry laughed.

"It's fine!" Winry got off the couch and gently sat on the floor, where she petted and played with the dog, "You eat, Miss Riza, I'll occupy this cutie."

Winry was having a spirited growling match with Hayate when Riza finished eating. She halfway washed the plate in the sink while Winry continued playing with Hayate. However, when she heard a cry from Winry, she lightly set the plate in the sink and whipped around to see Hayate backed away from Winry with his ears down.

"Winry, are you ok? Did Hayate hurt you?" Riza briskly walked to her. "I'm sorry, he usually doesn't-"

"No, no, he didn't do anything," Winry slowly stood up and eased back onto the couch with Riza's help.

"Are you in pain?" Riza kneeled in front of Winry.

"Yeah but it's nothing, it'll pass in a second," Winry breathed deeply when she lie back on the couch. Riza didn't move as Winry continued, "It happens from time to time anymore. You don't have to worry about me, it'll be fine."

Riza made neither a move nor sound until Winry sat up with a pained smile on her face. Riza sat on the coffee table, adjacent to the location Winry was. With her elbows rested on her knees, hands clasped together, Riza sat in waiting.

Winry looked down, "I might as well come right out and say it. But please don't tell anyone, I haven't even told Granny about it." Winry closed her eyes and held her stomach, "So, I'm pregnant."

Riza almost fell of the coffee table, "You're pregnant?" Winry didn't say anything. Riza realized Winry was anxious, "The baby was just kicking wasn't it?" Winry nodded vigorously. Riza's eyes filled with sadness, "Whose baby is it, Winry?" Winry bit her lip. "It's Edward's, isn't it?" Winry eventually nodded. "So you're about five months along, from the last time he was here?" Winry nodded.

_I will not cry. I will not cry. They don't want to make me cry. I will_- Winry burst out in tears. She sobbed into her hands and her hair fell over her face and spilled onto her knees. Riza placed a motherly hand on Winry's shoulder.

Between sobs, Winry choked out, "I've been wearing layer after layer of clothes so nobody would notice and I kept it to myself when I was getting morning sickness the second month…"

Riza moved her thumb in a circular motion to comfort Winry. After Winry released all of her pent up emotions and upsets, she wiped at her eyes and pathetically sniffled. Her hands were shaking as she swept her hair of her face.

Winry regarded Riza through shining azure eyes and a reddened face, "I want this baby so bad, but…Ed…"

Riza gripped Winry's forearm, "I understand."

An intense silence came. The women sat in a somewhat stunned manner, each of different nature. Winry's snuffles eased up with every passing minute. Riza didn't push or interrogate; she just waited and listened.

"Ed crashed down from that rocket contraption and Al and Sheska were with me. Al got upset because he thought Ed was blaming him for what happened and he ran off. Ed started to run after him but his prosthetic leg from the other world fell apart. I suspected I would see him after the commotion began," Winry laughed lightly, "it's just his style, so I brought the automail with the conjectured lengths." Winry shifted more towards Riza. "So when his leg fell apart, Sheska and I pulled him from the line of fire, under some of the wreckage where walls had fallen and closed off the open area, I changed his automail. But the outline of his ports started bleeding profusely because the replacement of my automail had screwed in his ports improperly and jerked the anchors forward, meaning his ports had basically moved. So I had to force his anchors backwards and it ripped large parts of his skin and that's why he was bleeding and I didn't want to chance him losing too much blood, so I sent Sheska to go back to command and find a suture kit. Of course," Winry gave another small laugh, "he kept saying he was fine and that he didn't have time for that. But he settled down when I told him he wouldn't be any good if he passed out from blood loss. And Sheska told him she knew where the first aid supplies were and took off.

"So I took off my jacket and ripped it and applied pressure to Ed's shoulder and told him to do the same to his leg. And I said I missed him. And then…" Winry looked away from Riza and talked hurriedly, "he kissed me. And he stood up and pressed me against one of the fallen walls and it happened so fast that I only got one leg out of my slacks and I was still pressuring the wound on his shoulder and…and…only a few minutes after it was over and we had gotten our pants back on, Sheska showed up. And then I had to do a hasty suture job on his shoulder and leg, which probably took me a little over five minutes and probably weren't perfect. I'd say it had only been about half an hour all that happened and he pulled on his shirt and got up and started to run to find Al, but I got up and ran after him and told him to stop.

"I grabbed his hand and said 'promise me you'll come back, Ed.'" Winry felt another tear run down her cheek, "And he told me he couldn't. So I asked him 'why, why can't you ever think about me for once'. And he said he had more important things to do than sit there and argue with me. He tried to run away but I held onto his hand and said 'everything's more important than me to you, Ed'. So he was like, 'well, what was that a few minutes ago' and I said 'sex'. And he got this weird look on his face and said I was being selfish and that he had to go. But I wouldn't let go and stumbled behind him and then he turned around and said 'I love you, Winry, but this is more important. It's more important than you'. So I slapped him in the face with my free hand and told him to go to hell. And he started to run away again but I jerked him back by his hand and I told him even if he didn't come back to me, he'd better stay alive and then I kissed him and said I loved him and let him go. Then he ran off."

Riza frowned, "Winry-"

Winry interrupted, "I was such a selfish bitch. Everything I said was all about _me_ and how it wasn't fair to _me_. I didn't even think about how unfair things for _him _or_ Al_ had been."

Riza sighed, "Winry, when things are moving fast and our emotions are running high, we all say things we don't mean. It sounds like both of you said some things you didn't mean, at least, not in the way they came out."

"Even if we didn't mean for all of it to come out that way, I'm sure wherever Ed is, he's angry. I know if he slapped me after I said I loved him, I'd be ready to kill. And he may never forgive me," Winry wiped under her eyes.

"I wouldn't bet on that, Winry," Riza settled her hand on Winry's back. "You said he told you that what was happening was more important than you." Winry looked at Riza, "Do you still love him?" Winry nodded, "You said he called you selfish. Do you still love him?" Winry nodded again. "Why would you think it's any different for Edward?"

"He didn't slap me and tell me to go to hell."

"It doesn't matter, Winry," Riza spoke louder, "an argument cannot destroy devotion. You and Ed have that."

Riza's point blew up in her face when Winry whispered, "So do you and Brigadier General Mustang."

Riza's hand fell from Winry's back, "Our devotion is different, Winry."

"Why are you two fighting?" Winry enquired tenderly.

"We aren't."

"I've heard from two people something's happened between you and him and I saw it for myself. Both of you looked a wreck at command today. Admittedly, he worse than you," Winry observed, "especially when I was talking to him in his office."

Riza swept up her glass and walked to the kitchen sink and began washing it and Gracia's plate. Winry stared at her back, fearing she'd pushed too far, "I'll take Miss Gracia's plate and leave. Thank you for listening and helping me."

Riza turned around and removed the clip from her hair. She pulled her hair to one side and closed her eyes, "Why were you in his office?"

"Asking how he dealt with losing Mr. Hughes' friendship. That's how I feel about losing Al."

"So everybody thinks something's wrong, huh?"

Winry picked her words carefully, "Someone told me you'd been fine one day and the next you two were acting distant. And I'd heard that you had a hand shaped bruise on your wrist and you two probably had a fight that got physical."

Riza's hands clenched and her eyes snapped open, "Absolutely not. Roy Mustang would _never_ _hurt_ me."

"I didn't accuse him," Winry gasped, "that's just what I heard. It was a theory."

Riza strode to the couch and sat on the arm, her back to Winry, "Nothing's wrong. The Brigadier General and I are as we have always been, there was no fight, and he certainly didn't hurt me. There's nothing else to say."

Winry assured, "I believe you, I'm sorry for upsetting you."

Winry picked the plate up and scurried towards the door. Riza called, "Winry, you didn't upset me. I just don't like every subordinate in Central Command speculating on what didn't happen between the Brigadier General and me."

"I understand, Miss Riza. But I seriously do appreciate you not judging me."

"Why would I?"

"Because I'm only 18 and I'm not married."

"You're old enough to run a business and perform surgery; I think you're old enough to have a baby. And you will birth a child that was made out of love so it doesn't matter if you're married. That's nobody's business but yours, Winry."

Winry smiled, "Do you think I could come back tomorrow?"


	3. A Deeper Hole Than Months Gone

(I set the dates analogous in each world because I'm lazy, by the way.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do not own the manga/anime characters, plots, or creation.

**Bless My Body, Bless My Soul**

**By TheKennethAnger**

Chapter 3: A Deeper Hole Than Months Gone

**In vino veritas**** - ****The truth is in wine.**

_Central, Amestris, May 14, 1941_

Roy Mustang got to his car outside of Central Command and slid the shining gold key into the lock. Instead of twisting the lock, his hand rested on the unmoving key and his free arm came to rest on the window, laying his head against his forearm. He took in a deep sigh but remained as he was. His eyes fluttered close and his open hand tightened into a fist. Eventually he released the key and folded his arms on the window and nestled his head in them. One of his legs bent like it was unusable and he sighed even louder but unsteadily.

He didn't care that he was drenched from the precipitation falling like liquid daggers. The rain on the window flowed over his fingers and trailed down his neck. He lost all sense of his surroundings and detached his aching mind from his taxed body. After he was thoroughly soaked, a black umbrella sheltered him.

Pulling his head out of his arms, he glanced at the owner, "Hey, Knox."

"Pneumonia first, my next body second; can't wait to put a tag on your toe, Mustang," Dr. Knox deadpanned.

"Me either," Mustang sighed and burrowed his head back into his arms.

"You're supposed to be an ass and call me an obscene name so I can pretend I'm acknowledging your insult and counter," Knox switched the umbrella to his other hand.

"Sorry to disappoint," Roy spoke through his sleeves.

Knox mumbled, "What's your problem, Mustang? You're acting like Hughes was murdered again." Hoping to get a rise out of his war acquaintance, his eyebrow arched when he realized Roy wasn't going to say anything back. "Still nothing, huh?"

From a distance, Riza jumped into her car from the weather and took off her sopping jacket. She threw it to the passenger's seat and took the blue military hat off her head. She turned on the car, which she only drove the short distance from her apartment to Command due to the weather, and cracked her knuckles. She coiled to back up when she saw Roy and Knox standing outside her superior officer's car. She put the shift back into park and spied on the two men.

"Hell spreads like disease, doesn't it, Mustang?" Knox pushed his glasses up.

Mustang turned around and let his back meld into the black car door and clear window and gazed at the rippling puddles, "Might as well throw me in the lake of fire."

"All I do is eye cadavers every day. Death isn't as riveting as you hope it will be," Knox began to walk away and remarked over his shoulder, "Get busy living or get busy dying, Mustang."

The rain surged faster while Roy watched Knox's back as he walked away. He leaned his head against the window, head tilted towards the sky. Roy wished the fluid would wash him clean again. All the blood on his hands, all the antipathy, all the isolation, all the ache… He scoffed, "And to think, I told Winry to let go of her fury and blame a few months ago." He slid down the length of the car until he was sitting on the saturated concrete. His head still slanted upwards and the rain straggled from the dip of his eyes and the crease in his lips, his fists became white and his toes dug into his boots.

Riza scrutinized Roy's out of character public display of weakness with worry and a locked jaw. She reverted to sit correctly in the car seat and sashayed her fingertips on the circle of the steering wheel. Contradictory approaches on how to handle this situation swung like a pendulum in her conscience. She deliberated for what seemed like a blue moon before rubbing her temples.

She backed up then looked nowhere but forward as she parked behind Roy's car. Throwing on her military coat and hat again, Riza jerked the key from the ignition and treaded out of her car to Roy.

His eyes still closed, having chalked up the noise of her car as one of the many that had passed, Riza spoke up loudly enough to be heard over the pounding rain, "Sir, you should get out of the rain."

Roy's head dropped and he shook his head, water droplets flying in every direction from his muddled mop of black locks, "I'm fine, Lieutenant Colonel." He drew his hand onto the back of his neck as a knee jerk reaction to hide his countenance from his long time subordinate. Every part of him was waterlogged but he didn't care. "Sir, you're going to get sick."

He disputed, "It's May; I won't get sick."

Pulling her hat closer to her head, Riza refuted, "The rain is glacial, Brigadier General, and the rain has made the temperatures drop exponentially."

He commanded, "Then it's best you take shelter, Lieutenant Colonel."

"I won't until you get off the ground and take shelter too, sir," Riza kneeled to him.

Roy propped his head on his car door again, eyes closed, "Stop being cantankerous, Hawkeye. I'm perfectly content where I am."

"Even a frog would take cover from this downpour."

"Glad you're comparing me to a frog, Hawkeye."

"Better than an ass, sir."

Roy exaggeratedly sighed, "I _want_ to sit here. It's my choice; so go home."

"Then I _choose_ to sit here, too," Riza disregarded the last portion of his statement and took residence on the soaked pavement beside Roy.

Roy opened his obsidian eyes and peered at Riza, "Why don't you ever give up?"

Riza and Roy locked eyes, "Not an option. As I recall, you're the one that told me I wasn't allowed to give up."

Roy and Riza remained under the darkening gray sky. Roy could feel the heat fluttering from Riza's body and he almost dropped his head onto her shoulder but thought better of it. His head screwed the opposite way as he scrunched up his legs. Beside him he heard, "Sir, why are you so down and out?"

Roy screwed his head back in the direction of Riza, "_Why the hell do you think_?"

Riza's teeth grated together and she sprung from the concrete. She wrenched Roy by the arms onto his feet and pinned him against the car. Roy was shocked with surprise at Riza's uncharacteristic aggression towards him, "Get in the car, _sir_." Roy opened his mouth to order her to set him loose, but she blocked the opportunity. Reaching next to Roy's hip, Riza turned the key and unlocked his car door. She swung him in a circle while she flung open the door and forced him into the car despite his protests. Riza maintained her belligerent pushes until Roy's head and back slammed into the passenger's door and his feet dangled off of the driver's seat. Riza then securely gripped his ankles to crush his legs up like an accordion. She closed the door after she fell into the driver's seat.

They resigned to taciturnity and Roy pulled himself into a sitting position in the seat he was strewn across. Riza turned the car on and looked out the window. Roy looked at the little bit of her face he could find when she looked away. His heart sunk. _I deserved that._ He diverted his gaze to the dashboard and his cheek pressed against it with a will of its own, facing away from Hawkeye. He rested his elbow on the dashboard as his forearm bent around the outline of the top of his head. His other hand relocated to the back of his neck.

"I shouldn't have yelled, Hawkeye, I apologize," he exhaled.

Riza was about to make a sarcastic retort until she saw Roy's position. Her brows furrowed, her biting wrath's fuse was stomped out, and her jaw relaxed. She reached out to caress his hair but sprained her hand back to her side.

"Apology accepted," her quiet voice continued, "but you need to wake up and smell the coffee."

Riza stepped out of Roy's car and got into her own. She turned the car on and raced away from Roy's car. However, when she drove out onto the street, she pulled over, out of Roy's sight. She eased back onto the headrest and rubbed a hand over her face. She didn't pull out until Roy's car swung into the street, heading the other direction.

After arriving at her apartment complex, Riza was happy she made it in one piece after the rain fell in buckets over her windshield. She rushed from the car and rambled up the stairs to her apartment. She unlocked the door only to be met by Hayate. After she locked the door and kicked off her boots and laid her guns out, she petted the top of her dog's head and dragged her feet to the bathroom. She peeled off her wet clothes and threw them into the bathtub. She unfolded a towel and unclipped her hair. She used the towel to dry off then swathed it around her body. She looked into the mirror. She still had dark bags under her eyes and was pale as a ghost.

Riza rotated and loosened her towel so she could view the tattoo chiseled into her back- as well as the uneven, ridged scars from the burns, "And here I was, thinking you couldn't hurt me any worse, Roy."

Riza threw on some clean sleeping wear and scooped Hayate up. She sat on her bed and propped her back on the bare wall. She stroked the dog as he calmly nuzzled into her lap. Riza picked up the phone and dialed a now familiar number. After a few rings, Riza heard a voice she had come accustomed to hearing.

"Hello, Winry speaking."

"Hi, Winry," Riza said weakly.

"Oh, hey, Riza." Winry started the conversation right away, "I've decided on names for the baby."

"That's great, Winry," Riza looked out the raindrop coated window, the lights of the city the only source of light shining through. "What have you decided?"

Winry's voice perked up, "If the baby's a girl, I'm going to name her Emily Alexandria. But if the baby's a boy, I'm going to name him Emile Alarace."

Riza smiled to herself at Winry's enthusiasm, "I think those are wonderful names, Win-"

Winry, as she often did, interjected, "Did you catch that? Did you catch what I did?"

Riza paused, "What do you mean?"

"With the names," Winry underlined.

Riza shrugged her shoulders though no one could see her, "No, I guess not."

Riza heard shuffling before Winry explained, "Well, I started the first names with an 'e' and the middle names with an 'a'. Ed was born first and Al was born second."

"I should've caught that Winry," Riza wiggled herself into a laying position. "I think that's clever. Which surname will you use?"

Without hesitation, Winry answered, "Elric." Riza heard more shuffling, "So picking the names was the highlight of my day; what about yours?"

Riza gave a bitter 'ha', "I didn't have a highlight but I have a list of lowlights."

"Talk to mama."

"Work was normal but when I left, shit got weird." Riza sighed, "Long story short, the worst part is I roughed Roy up."

"Ouch, what was he doing?"

"Being a bastard."

"That's kind of vague."

"It's like a waterfall is cascading over Central and he was standing in the rain beside his car for no fucking reason." Riza looked at her feet, "And Dr. Knox passed him and said something but I don't think Roy even answered, not that I could see anyways. Once Knox walked by, Roy just sat on the ground." Riza laid Hayate beside her and turned on her side, "So I pulled up behind his car and tried to get him out of the rain. But he basically ignored me. Then he snapped at me and I lost my fucking cool."

Winry spoke up after Riza paused for a few moments, "Why did he snap at you?"

Riza considered her question and spoke carefully as to not indicate Roy and she had prior problems that were building up to the current situation, "Because I was nagging him to get out of the rain."

Winry sounded unconvinced, "Alright. So is this the part where you manhandled him?"

Riza's hand grasped the phone stiffly, "I saw red and I jerked him off the ground and pushed him into his car. I had a bunch of nasty remarks prepared to prod at his ego, but when I looked at him… Trust me, I don't think anything I could have said would have made him feel any lower. So I just told him he needed to," Riza chose to skew her words, "get a grip on himself." Riza turned onto her back again, "Then I got in my car and made sure he left in his."

"Well," Winry began after there were more shuffling noises sounding through the phone, "what did he say after you told him to get a grip on himself?"

Riza decided to answer after a few seconds, "Nothing. But before I told him that, he apologized for snapping at me… I don't know."

"What's there to know?" A screech of sliding metal met Riza's ear, "Sounds to me like something devastatingly upsetting occurred."

"For the last time, Winry," Riza sighed, "Roy and I did not have a fight. I don't know what's wrong with him, but he's been like this for way too long."

"There seems to be a bunch of I don't know-s anymore, Riza. It's time to find the origin of the wall and tear it down. You're his best friend and that means you two can talk about anything," more deafening metal screeching met Riza's eardrum.

_No we can't, not this_, "Winry, you're almost nine months pregnant," Riza changed the subject.

"And…?" Winry trailed off.

Riza, thankful for the unquestioned change of subject but also clouded with alarm, clarified, "And that means you shouldn't be working on automail."

Winry snickered, "Do I really come off as that irresponsible? Mr. Garfiel is melding metal for the automail; I'm just a bystander."

Riza let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, "Good. I just don't want you to get hurt."

Winry took on a more serious tone, "I would never do anything to jeopardize my and Ed's baby."

"I know."

Winry's tone lightened, "Well my feet are swollen and I want to eat _everything_ I see. Even dirt. I chewed on coffee beans earlier. And I can't stop buying nectarines and watermelon. Then someone at the market asked me if I had been the Fullmetal Alchemist's mechanic and I started hysterically crying and threw his own wrench at him. Then when I saw a lady with a milkshake in one of the cafés, I ran inside and pushed a little girl out of the way to get to the counter. That's sad, isn't it? _Then_ when I was about to go into my shop, a nasty, hideous teenager almost hit me with a shoe- _a shoe, dammit_. So I picked it up and told him it was mine and to get off the street because his lumpy face was scaring our customers away." Riza pulled a pillow over her face so Winry couldn't hear her laughing. "Anyway, it's late and I'm wiped. So I'll get off here. Besides, I'm sure you just got in and haven't eaten."

"No, I haven't. And I haven't fed Hayate either."

"Hop to it, lady."

"Hey," Riza called, "thanks for listening, mama."

Winry sounded content, "My pleasure. Sleep tight."

"And you," Riza hung up the phone.

She moaned in pain as her feet touched the floor. She rubbed her eyes and looked at Hayate, who had moved beside her leg, "You know, I hate when I have to run around the building to carry papers the whole day. I did that when I worked on Roy's team; you'd think I'd have my own assistant." She stretched and headed to the kitchen where she shook dog food from its bag and set it in a pan for Hayate, "Now I'm sounding like him complaining."

When Riza went to grab the cabinet handle, the phone rang. Groaning, she walked back to her phone.

Pulling the phone to her ear she joked, "What, did you just decapitate -"

A deep voice resonated from the ear piece, "Riza…"

"What do you need, sir?" Riza controlled herself.

"Riza…can ya come n' pick me up?" he slurred.

"It's midnight. Why are you out drinking, sir? You have work tomorrow," Riza scolded.

"I don't care. Riza-"

"Where are you?" Riza sighed. _Damn this man._

"On Delmare Street…"

"Why are you that far away? And what bar are you in?" Riza demanded.

"I ain't in a bar."

"Then where the hell are you?"

"Uh phone booth."

Riza pulled on a clean, dry jacket and jerked her umbrella from the back of her closet, "I swear, you're more trouble than you're worth."

"I know. Isn't very much, is't?"

"Sir-"

"Bitter pill tuh swallow, huh?" Roy snorted.

Riza bit her lip, "We'll talk when I get there. Don't move, Mustang."

She heard the phone click and placed her phone on the receiver and picked up her gun. She slipped on her boots then stopped when she realized she was in a nightgown. Deciding that her jacket covered up most of the gown and it looked like a skirt, she opened the door. All she could think while she locked up was _what have we done to each other_. Opening her umbrella, Riza bounded for her car and swiftly shut the door when her feet were pulled in. Switching the car on and flipping the headlights to life, Riza drove to the downtown area of Central to Delmare Street. Sketchy people hustled up and down the street and noise sounded from every direction as Riza gripped her gun. "Why did it have to be the red light district, Roy?"

She noticed a familiar head of black hair and gloomy eyes. Roy was once again sitting on the rain soaked ground; one leg straightened out and the other pulled up to his chest, held by his arms. His head leaned on the glass pane of the phone booth as he stared at the lamppost in front of him. She pulled over beside him, even though she was on the wrong side of the street, and got out of the car- deciding the umbrella would be too much trouble- with her gun and keys in hand. She crouched beside Roy and his head lulled towards her. His hair was matted to his face and there was a couple smeared pink lipstick imprints on his upper neck. His bleached, half unbuttoned shirt had become shear from the rain and the coat he usually wore was missing. He also sported busted up knuckles, his blood collaborating with the waves of water headed to the drain.

"Riza…" he fell to the side away from Riza, barely slapping his hand on the flimsy cigarette butts that cluttered the sidewalk to keep from falling. She pulled him back to her and lifted his arm around her neck. She hoisted him onto his quaking feet, slowly maneuvering him to the car. The top of his soaking head fell against the hinge of her jaw, "Riza…"

"Not now, sir," Riza managed to get the car door opened and sat Roy in the passenger's seat. A man with a mean look and hunched shoulders crept behind Riza to stick her up. The prostitutes with glittering flapper dresses and teased hair tipped their fifths of concentrated vodka while leaning on the brick wall under the red canopy of the bar and examined the scene unfolding. The man aimed to grab Riza's hair. Without turning around and while lifting Roy's legs into the car, she pointed her gun in the man's face, "Fuck off now, scum." The man scurried away, stumbling in trepidation. The dolled-up prostitutes laughed noisily and walked back into the bar.

She banged the door closed, burning with frustration, and got in the car. When she drove off Roy pinched her nightgown, "Is this uh night-"

Riza yanked Roy's hand away, "Yes, and don't touch it." After about five minutes, Roy chose to tug on the steering wheel instead. After swerving and almost hitting a telephone pole, Riza slammed on her brakes. She put the car in park, "Brigadier General! Don't you dare grab the wheel like that again!"

Roy curled into himself like a child, "Oh, Riza…"

"What? _What_? You keep saying my name! If you don't have anything to add to that, stop saying it!" Riza lost hold on her irritation. She looked forward again, about to put the car in drive but felt the seat below her shift and lower. When Riza looked to see what Roy was doing, his hand rested on the bottom cushion of her seat and he was treacherously lugging himself closer to Riza. "Stop it now, sir. Sit back down."

"Don't make me, Riza," Roy choked out. He sunk into the gap between the passenger and driver's seat and clutched onto Riza's bicep and pulled her down. The side of his face cuddled into the crook of her neck. She froze as his erratic breath caressed her collar bone and the smell of alcohol overwhelmed any other dastardly scent he may have carried. Riza let her eyelids droop in sadness when he wouldn't relinquish his hold. However, Roy's head lulled and fell off Riza's shoulder.

His hand morphed into a constrictor as he roughly squeezed Riza's bicep, attempting not to lurch forward. _Another goddamn bruise_. Riza felt a minute ounce of pain until his hand tumbled from her arm like an avalanche. He fell headfirst in the direction of the steering wheel but Riza enveloped him into her arms. His head kinked and the side of his face burrowed into the bend of her elbow and his arms uselessly fell. With the outside forearm, she cradled Roy's head and chest as she rested her limb on the bottom of the steering wheel and she enclosed her fist around it to steady her arm. Once again, his breath touched her skin.

Staring at Roy's profile, Riza lifted her free hand and stroked his unruly hair. When her fingers got caught in a knot, she kissed his scalp with her fingertips and started massaging his head. A cavernous moan escaped his lips, accompanied with a warm breath. Riza laid his head onto her lap, circumvented the steering wheel and used both of her hands to repeatedly dash over- rather than through due to the knots- his ebony tresses. Without ceasing the motion, Riza pondered aloud, "We can't keep doing this Roy." Still without ceasing motion, Riza leaned her head on to the top of the steering wheel, "I can't handle this anymore."

As the rain droplets bled down the windshield, couplets of fugitive tears welled in her eyes but did not fall as she massaged Roy's head with all of her fingertips, "This is the origin of the wall. Why the hell did we have to lay the foundation?"

Riza ultimately lifted Roy into the passenger's seat and his head slackened on the headrest and Riza shuddered, "Stupid bastard."

Riza's eyelids succumbed to gravity after the near twenty minute drive to Roy's unnecessarily extravagant house. She puffed and strode into the rain that shined like the blades of knives against the backdrop of the city lights. Rushing to the other side of the vehicle, realizing he had utterly passed out, she pulled the house key from his pants' pocket and Riza lugged Roy's dead weight all the way to the thick mahogany front door and unlocked it. Tugging the man out of the weather, Riza let one of her hands stray from holding Roy up to close the door, and effectively- but accidentally- dropped Roy into a nose-dive. Riza shut the door, biting back a laugh, "Maybe you should diet."

"I'm not sleepin', ya know," Roy rolled onto his back as his busted up hand covered his nose. "You did that on purp'se."

"You can't prove that, sir."

"You're _fired_," Roy pivoted onto his unoccupied elbow and propelled into a sitting position.

"In that case, I qui- Oh my God, you're bleeding," Riza bowed to the floor while the blood oozed through the fingers cupping his nose. She enclosed his wrist and removed the curtain of his hand. Blood lined his nostrils and dawdled over his mouth and chin, some beads clung to the skin and trailed down his neck, others surged onto his black slacks.

Roy tried to wrench his wrist out of Riza's grip, "Forget 'bout it."

"Can't do that, sir." Riza was not expecting when Roy's bloodied hand jolted with animalistic strength, yanking Riza over his outstretched legs.

"Fuckin' let go'f me, Riza!" Roy hastily scooted from beneath her, leaving a smeared track of vagrant water sponging from his soaked pants, as she let his wrist go. He used his heels to boost himself away from a confused Riza until his back crashed into a polished antique table that stood on four thin, carved legs.

Riza stared at the Brigadier General with a somewhat slack mouth and rose to her feet. Roy turned enough to use his clean hand to heave himself to his feet. However, his knees gave out from the drunkenness as he grappled for support from the surface of the small table, causing a light cerulean vase to splinter as he tumbled with the table. He collided on his shoulder, damaged hand squishing under his ribs, to the glossy timber strips of the floor.

Riza sprung to hunch behind Roy, rolling him away from the glass to his opposite side, facing her as the injured arm hung behind him. Gore dripped from his nose and slid down his cheek, which was inflamed from the fall. Riza moved the arm hanging over his back towards her but froze when she saw his knuckles had split through the thin scabs and bled crimson ramification. Shards of glass sparkled from embedment in the side of his hand. Seeing the minuscule clefts in his drying shirt, Riza twisted his half opened shirt to the side and saw the aforementioned sparkles launched in his shoulder. Riza grazed her fingertips over the slightly bleeding skin and felt the spiky glass shards sticking up. Her further surveillance revealed the line of debris down his arm. She straightened Roy's shirt.

"Sir, get up," she gently slapped her hand against his bruising cheek a couple times. "Come on."

Roy's hollow eyes peaked at Riza, "_Stop_ slappin' me."

Riza heated up, "Then stop making me chaperone your volatile, alcoholic misadventures! You're 32 years old, Roy Mustang! You're a grown man and I'm not your goddamn mother!"

"Why don't ya care I'm wastin' away?" Roy moaned.

Riza's face filled with upset and she eased onto her knees, "Sir-"

Roy feebly entrenched his bleeding hand in the hem of her nightgown, eyes fluttering, "Why don't you care I'm sufferin'?"

"Sir-"

"Don't ya care I'm witherin'?"

Riza wiggled her fingers under the clasp on her nightgown. She enclosed her digits on the juncture of his thumb and palm and brushed the stretched skin. "Sir, I-"

"Can't you see I'm dyin'? I got busy dyin', Riza."

Riza leaned forward and spoke louder, "Sir, listen to me."

"Everyth'ng's my fault."

"Shut up, Roy!" Riza ordered. "We're both responsible, we both knew the possible results but we agreed to it anyway!" Riza hoisted Roy back up and, avoiding his various injuries, dragged him to the plush couch settled in the middle of the room. "Try to help me out, sir."

With the little strength from Roy, Riza got him onto the couch and laid him down with his head propped on a pillow, neither caring about the couch getting wet, and unfolded the throw draped on the back of the couch to tuck around his body. "Sir, I didn't stop to think how that would sound to you. The mother thing, I mean. I don't mind taking care of you. I will always be there to take care of you." She kneeled by the couch, "I want you to sleep a couple hours so you can sober up. Then I'm taking you to a doctor." She looked to the grandfather clock by the fireplace. It read 2:43. His breath had evened out after she wiped the blood of his face and swept up the scattered glass, "You'll be the death of me yet." She plopped into a woven chair in the kitchen. Her forehead fell into her blood-smeared hands. After calming herself, she re-entered the living room. She trudged towards the couch and sat on the hard floor in front of it, resting her back against the seat cushion. Roy's even breathing and the ticking of the clock flooded her ears.

She turned and laid her temple against the end of the couch and unapologetically yearned, "We got what we wanted, Roy." Riza touched his ankle, "I'll never want it again."

Riza didn't see his unharmed hand clench into a white-knuckled fist or feel his chest cave in.


	4. Venomous Judgment of the Enchanted Mothe

There is Roy/Riza and Edward/Winry contained in nearly every chapter, including this one. But it's easier to write Roy/Riza because they're in the same world. Also, I may have this labeled Edward/Winry but it encompasses other situations/characters too. Carry on.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do not own the manga/anime characters, plots, or creation.

**Bless My Body, Bless My Soul**

**By TheKennethAnger**

Chapter 4: Venomous Judgment of the Enchanted Mother

**Damnant quod non intellegunt**** - ****They condemn what they do not understand**

_Rush Valley, Amestris, June 4, 1941_

"_Get this baby out of my fucking vagina now_!"

Pinako scoffed, "This is what you get for not telling me you were pregnant until a month ago."

Winry grabbed her grandmother by the apron, "Listen here, you haggard loony-" Winry's grating insult was disrupted by her own shrill scream as she shook Pinako back and forth, causing the unlit pipe to fall to the ground. Winry heard the doctor fearfully say 'push' another time. She sucked in enough air to make her lungs explode and pushed, only to shriek again and shake her grandmother further. "I swear to _God_, no more babies! No more babies, I _swear_!"

The automail prodigy could be heard wailing obscenities and screaming bloody murder all the way to the waiting room-at the _other end_ of the second floor. Gracia placed her hands over Elysia's ears and shook her head with a mirthful expression. Riza sat straight-faced beside of Gracia with her legs crossed, nursing a cup of coffee. Havoc took residence in the seat across from them, with his legs stretched out and with a horrified expression. "Is she having a baby or getting bludgeoned to death?" Riza looked at him with a face that said 'are you stupid'. "Hey, I'm not saying childbirth is painless or anything remotely close, I'm just saying I've never heard of a woman screaming loud enough to break the sound barrier."

Gracia let out a small chortle as she let her hands slide from Elysia's ears when Winry had quieted, "I must say, I didn't sound like that when I gave birth. But the reactions usually differ based on the mother's personality."

Izumi and Sig Curtis inhabited the dark green-cushioned seats in the corner, a few chairs adjacent to Havoc. The happily married couple had arrived in Rush Valley a couple hours prior to abide their time in a hospital for the birth of Winry and Ed's baby. After all, Izumi felt like a future grandmother of sorts.

They all somewhat jumped when Winry wordlessly howled like a banshee. Their eardrums then vibrated when Winry cried, "_Goddamn it!_" Gracia swiftly clamped her hands back over Elysia's ears. Winry continued-though with hitches- her curses, "_Who the motherfucking…hell…decided reproduction is…is beautiful? Ah! This shit is…conferred to the planet…by a…demonic…cunt! Ah! I hope…he chokes! He…must have gotten…shot down by so many…chicks that he deci-decided: I'm…going to get my…revenge and make…all these bitches… Ahhhh! Only a man would…would wish this on…a woman!_" There was a trivial pausefrom her vulgarities only for her voice to become insufferably louder, "_Don't fuckin' tell me I should quiet down! Just…who the hell do you…think you are? You try pushin'…a baby out your…goddamn cervix! Ah! I gained twenty…27 pounds with this…baby! You wanna argue…ah!...that a mass that made me…27 pounds heavier…willy-nilly floats out of…my vagina? Fuck! My! Ass! You! __**Dick**__!_"

Excluding Izumi and Elysia, who kept asking what was going on, everybody's eyes bulged from the sockets and their mouths were stretched with compressed lips, looking like they were ready to bolt. Izumi acutely chuckled and a smirk formed. Riza, Havoc, and Gracia gazed at her and Sig asked, "What?"

Izumi folded her arms, "Couldn't find a better match for Ed if you tried."

The supporters agreed with a laugh or a smile. After a couple minutes of silence, Winry roared another unintelligible sob-coated scream. When the hollering waned, the devotees sucked in breaths, awaiting the next string of indecencies. They never came.

After what seemed like a wild blue yonder, Pinako gripped onto the frame of the door leading into the waiting room. She gasped wildly and held an open hand over her heart, unsteadily clinging to her fragmented pipe. One of the temples of her glasses was bent, the other scantily settled on the other ear, and her apron and forest green dress were stretched and crinkled as though ready to unravel. "The…baby…is…healthy…just…had…newborn…tests..."

Izumi sauntered to Pinako and kneeled down to place a hand on her shoulder, "Pinako, are you alright?" Izumi helped Pinako to the closest seat while the others gathered around her.

"Oh, yes," Pinako brought the back of her hand to her forehead, "maybe a bit spooked." Pinako wheezed for a moment or two. "I can't tell if she was actually in that much pain, or if she was exaggerating. After the _12 hours_ she was in labor, I just can't tell."

Sig put forth, "Is Winry fine?"

"Exhausted, but fine." Pinako exhaled, "Maybe I shouldn't have insisted on being the one in the room."

Havoc scratched the back of his head and laughed good-naturedly, "Probably not. Even Ed wouldn't have wanted to be in there." He instantly caught himself and blew, "That sounded awful. Sorry, not the way I meant it. I just meant-"

Riza spoke sympathetically, "It's ok, Jean, we know what you meant."

Pinako, finally catching her breath, remarked, "Yes, yes, we understand. I won't lie, I think Ed would have been traumatized; I think I am; I know the doctor is." She offered an exhausted smile, "And I think she just woke the dead- _in Xing._ Probably morally offended the orderlies."

Izumi grinned, "What's the gender?"

Pinako sighed contently, "I'm proud to say it's a boy."

Elysia jumped up and down, "Aw! I'm going to have a baby brother!" The adults beamed at Elysia's zest.

Gracia inquired, "What's his name?"

"She said if the baby was a boy, she was going to name him Emile Alarace Elric," Riza shifted feet and glanced at Pinako. "Is that what she stuck to?"

Pinako nodded, "Indeed she did. The nurse was giving him to Winry when I came to update you. So we'll be able to see him in the nursery in a little while." Pinako sunk into the seat, "Until then, I'm going to rehabilitate."

Izumi stated she was going to retrieve coffee from the cafeteria on the bottom floor and checked for requests. Gracia turned down the offer, but Havoc, Sig, and Pinako took her up on it. "Do you need me to help you, dear?" Sig offered. Izumi waved him off and headed towards the door.

Riza, although Izumi turned down assistance, pursued the housewife. While awaiting the elevator, Izumi merely glanced at Riza but said nothing. They entered their transportation, heading to the cafeteria. Before getting in line for the coffee, Izumi unexpectedly spun the plastic chair belonging to the nearest table and plunked down unhesitantly, closing her eyes and resting her hand on her fist in waiting.

"You were Ed and Al's alchemy teacher, correct?" Riza mimicked Izumi's sitting position.

"Yes, I was." Izumi sighed, "They had enough repressed aptitude, dynamism, and intellect to fuel a militia." Izumi opened her eyes, "Yet, somehow, they had seraphic and tenderhearted souls. You will not see their like again."

With a small smile, Riza said, "You speak nobly and fondly of them."

Izumi confidently professed, "They are the children I can't have. Even if I could, I would still regard them as if blood."

Riza's head fell and her fists tightened, "They would have wanted to be here. Winry needs-"

"-to stand with her head high and take care of her son. The obvious shouldn't have to be said. We all know what they would what," Izumi lowered her hand and headed to the coffee stand.

On their way back to the waiting room, coffee in hand, Riza declared, "No matter how high she holds her head, Winry can't do this on her own."

A couple feet away from the waiting room, Izumi called without turning around, "Rush Valley is a train stop from Dublith." Izumi turned into the waiting room and began to distribute the coffees with a newfound determination burning under her skin.

After guzzling the strong, bitter coffee, Pinako questioned, "Who wants to see the baby?"

Elysia bounced to the doorway, holding Gracia's hand as she followed Pinako. At the door, Havoc mockingly bowed as Riza rolled her eyes when passing him. However, Sig and Izumi were in no hurry.

"Feel old, grandma?" Sig joked.

Izumi turned to her husband with a gentle smile and glossy eyes, "You realize that-"

"-we're going to help Winry-"

"-because Pinako is-"

"-too far to be there all the time."

"Come on, clone, let's go see Eli," Izumi pulled Sig up with her.

Eyeing the tiny life form, an air of glorification fell like a fog surrounding the viewers.

"Mommy, pick me up, pick me up, pick me up!" Instead, Sig elevated Elysia up to the window and she pressed her nose and forehead on the glass of the nursery. "Was I that small when I was a baby?"

Gracia patted Elysia's head, "Yes, Elysia. You were just as beautiful too."

The group continued swooning until the obviously still petrified doctor came to inform them, "Miss Rockbell is awake, but she's very weak and a bit…moonstruck from the delivery. She'll have to stay," the doctor cringed, "for a couple days."

Havoc, who coughed to mask his laugh, "Thanks, doc. So we can see her?"

The doctor stiffly circumvented the gang, "Yes. Keep it at two or three at a time." He whirled around like a ballerina, not getting very far, as Gracia called to him.

"Sir, were there complications during the birth?" Everyone looked to her, "It sounded like abnormal pain."

The doctor shook his head and backtracked, "Actually yes. Sorry, I'm a bit thrown. That was highly unprofessional. Miss Rockbell had cephalopelvic disproportion."

Pinako gasped, "You're supposed to tell us stuff like this!" The doctor wrung his hands, "Highly unprofessional indeed! No wonder she was screaming so loudly."

Havoc's face scrunched up, "What exactly is cepha-whatcha mi call it-proportion?"

The doctor illuminated, "Two things happened here. The narrowness of her hips was the same width of the baby's head and the baby was positioned improperly; it was facing towards her front rather her back. The epidural is administered when dilation is at four or five centimeters. But her hip joints stretched before we were aware of the complication and we didn't have time to give the epidural and turn the baby by vaginal manipulation to induce labor at the same time." The doctor shuttered, "Therefore she had a complicated natural birth." The doctor fanned himself with his hand, "And she's moonstruck, and I mean totally sedated, by oxycodone due to the severe pain she was in."

Havoc submitted again, "That's pretty much the worse thing I've ever heard. That really sounds horrifying." He dropped to his knees, clasped his hands together, and looked upwards, "Thank all things holy I am not a woman."

"Yes, I'm thankful too. You'd be an uncomely woman. As I said though, you are allowed to visit her. But _**please**_ don't rile her up." He mumbled 'I picked the wrong week to stop taking methadone' and scuttled down the hallway.

Once the doctor was out of sight, Havoc and Izumi unapologetically laughed. Gracia, Sig, and Riza tried to smother their laughs but some slipped out. Pinako tried to readjust her glasses, "I told you. Traumatized. Enough to start methadone."

"Who's first?" Havoc, still snickering, inquired. They all looked to Pinako.

"Hell no, I'm too old to handle much more. I'm going to smoke my pipe outside for a while. I'll be here the rest of the night and tomorrow. Have at it," Pinako waved over her shoulder.

Elysia leaped, "I wanna see her! Can we go see her, Mom?"

"Elysia-"Gracia bent down.

Havoc interrupted, "Nah, Gracia, don't sweat it. You two go in first." After Gracia and Elysia were out of earshot and met with the nurse escorting them to the room, Havoc held one hand over his mouth, as though the Hughes would read his lips, and elaborated to Riza, Izumi, and Sig. "That way if she goes nuts, we'll know to stay out of there."

Riza kicked the back of his knee, "Jean!"

"OW, dammit, Riza!"

In the room, Winry was on cloud nine and Gracia smiled, eyes wide, as Elysia stood beside her bed. Winry pointed a finger at Elysia, "Don' have k'ds, lil' girl. It mi'te be worth it, but it ain't worth it." Winry spun her finger in circles confusedly, "I don't wan' no tor_nados_ up in 'ere," she spoke to her finger, "st'p it. St'p it now, ya lil'-"

Gracia cupped her hand over Winry's mouth, "Now, Winry, I'm glad to see you're all right." She released Winry's mouth and tugged at Elysia. "Elysia, say goodbye to Winry; she needs to sleep."

Elysia waved vigorously, "Bye, Winry! I love you and I can't wait 'til you're awake!"

Approaching the group again, Havoc put his hands on his hips, "So, did she go bananas?"

Gracia giggled and sat Elysia on the floor, "Yes, but not the way you'd expect."

Elysia doubled over, "She thought her finger was going to start a tornado!"

Riza shook her head, "Oh, boy."

Havoc grabbed Riza's arm, haling her down the hall, "Hurry up, Riza, we _have_ to see this!"

Riza nearly lost her footing when Jean stopped at Winry's hospital room.

Winry caught sight of the duo and grabbed the bed to try to sit up, "Ya ever feel l'ke, ya know…" Winry's head lulled as she turned on her side and cuddled her pillow. "…like needin' a new shoe pair?" Havoc bit his lip with his eyes squinted as Riza shielded her mouth, "Ya know, tuh run 'way fr'm a pride!" Winry lay on her back again and started twisting her perspired blonde hair, "Like uh, like uh zebr-uh pride. Like a pride of itinerant zebr-uhs. Vic'ous lil' carniv'res. I'll need new shoes tuh run 'way. I gotta run pass that pig paitin' that barn purp-all, fr'm that pride of squirr'lls."

Riza pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and sat on Winry's bed, "Ok, Winry. We'll get you a new pair of shoes."

"Don' have k'ds, lady. It mi'te be worth it, but it ain't worth it."

Havoc inhaled, "I have to go…brush my teeth!"

Riza shook her head and grinned, "All right, Win. I'm sorry you were in so much pain."

"Don't sweat it, it's buh-bye now."

Riza put her hand on Winry's forehead, "Your son is sublime."

Winry's eyes drooped, "Well, duh, he's my k'd."

Riza leered, "So humble." She teetered down the hallway. Steering away from the group, she dove into the bathroom beside the waiting room before being seen. Bending over to check the stalls, she determined she was alone. She traipsed to the far stall and locked the door. Sloping into the washed-out pink and green tiles of the bathroom wall, Riza sunk her head into her hands then ran her hands through her hair. "Take a deep breath, Riza, this isn't about you." Notwithstanding her reminder, Riza crouched just above the floor, forearms digging into her folded legs, and a dry sob left from her lips.

Outside, Jean held his head in one of his hands, trembling from hilarity, "She just said she needed new shoes to run away from a pride of zebras and squirrels that were chasing her by a pig painting a barn purple. I was about to explode. The funniest part is she used the word itinerant between all that." Composing himself again, he informed, "I'm going to call Mustang so he can pass on the word. Wait, hey, where's Riza?" Without shame, he called down the hallway at Winry's nurse, "Hey, you, nurse lady! Is there a not sedated chick in there?" The nurse looked in and shook her head. "Hm. Well, we'll find her in a minute. Miss Izumi, Mister Sig, why don't you guys go in while I call Mustang." Gracia motioned for Elysia to follow her and shadowed Havoc back into the waiting room. Izumi started down the hall, her bulky husband in tow.

"When you step back, we really don't know Winry," Sig off-handedly commented.

Izumi looked at him and shrugged, "Ed and Al loved her and she just had Ed's baby. That's all we need to know."

Izumi sat on the edge of Winry's bed and Sig lingered at the end of the bed. Winry poked Izumi's side, "You're awf'l pretty. I think I've seen ya 'for but I face-placed nothin'." Izumi replied, "You have seen me before, I was Al and Ed's alchemy teacher." Winry's face turned sour, "Oh," she gripped Izumi shirt, "they lef' me. Al misses Win-ry."

Izumi and Sig waited for her to finish, but she said nothing more. The Curtis' eyes met in confusion Izumi stared at Winry, utterly floored, "Yes, I'm sure Alphonse does miss you, but Ed misses you too, Winry."

Winry jutted out her bottom lip, "Nuh uh, he tol' me I wun't import'nt." Winry then started popping her lips, causing an odd smacking sound, and started feeling her bottom lip, "Wha is that?" She plucked it outward and rolled her eyes as far down as they could go, trying to glimpse at her bottom lip, "Wha's that on muh face? H's that aw-ays been the-re?"

Izumi pulled Winry's hand from her lip, "Yes, Winry, your lip has always been there." Izumi's hand constricted around the younger woman's palm. As though evading from blowing the leaves off a dandelion, Izumi spoke, "When did Ed say you weren't important?"

Winry drew Izumi's hand to her nose and sniffed, "Ya smell like…like…cer'd'fi'ed insani-ty."

"Winry," Izumi sotto voce digressed, "when did Ed say you aren't important?"

Winry closed her eyes, humming, and swirled her champagne locks around her fingers, "After the lovemakey th'ng. Ed said…" Winry cackled, "That r'ym'd." Winry's face dropped like a penny down a well the next moment, "He said, Win-ry, he said, love y-ou but that was more…more imort'nt th'n me."

Izumi's eyes saddened, "I don't think he meant it the way it sounded, Winry."

Winry thrashed her head from side to side and took hold of the ends of her sudoric, stringy hair, "Ed dun't want Win-ry. Well, fuck 'em. I do'n need 'em."

Izumi stood and caught sight of Sig's matching dejected expression and pushed herself off the bed, "Winry, I think it best you don't talk about Ed while you're sedated, you don't know what you're saying."

Winry turned over with a lackadaisical face, "I know some'th'in: lady, don' have k'ds. It mi'te be worth it, but it ain't worth it." Winry curled onto her side.

Izumi practically made tracks and Sig found godspeed, falling behind Izumi. Izumi kept moving until she was at the nursery window. Her eyes welled up like rolling clouds before a downpour as she laid eyes on Emile. She felt Sig's wide hands rest on her shoulders.

Taking a breath to comfort his wife, Izumi cut into Sig's directive, "She's under heavy medication that alters the function of her central nervous system; I know she doesn't know what she's saying." A solitary tear rolled down her cheek, "She would never talk about Ed like that if she was in her right mind. As far as the child thing, even if she wasn't sedated, she wouldn't know."

Sig observed, "That doesn't mean you aren't upset."

Izumi sported a small smile when she looked at the wrinkled angel in the crib, "I'll survive."

Jean's voice skimmed through the air, "Really? Uh… No… I'm just _surprised_…Well, it's not exactly your cup of tea…I don't know, she wandered of somewhere…She was ok last time I saw her…I just told you, she wandered off…Ok Nervous Nancy, I'll tell her to call you when she turns up…I'm not a soldier anymore, I can call you Nancy all I want and you can't do a single thing…yeah, yeah, whatever…Ok, later- Nervous Nancy." Havoc speedily slammed the phone on its receiver. Izumi and Sig took residence in the waiting room again with Havoc, Gracia, and Elysia. "Oh yeah, I got the last word for once!" Havoc saw everybody with cocked eyebrows, "What? Hey, Roy Mustang never shuts up, he likes to hear himself talk, and what a smarta-," he looked at Elysia, "-a-a-alec."

Sig chuckled, "Nice save, Jean."

"Tell me about it," Jean fell into a seat. "I just got the mental image of Gracia beating me in the face with a spatula." Izumi and Sig snorted and Gracia gave a toothy smile. "Ah, I'm just messing. Mustang's a good guy, he really is. I mean, he can definitely go on an ego trip, but that's usually a front when he gets mixed up and weak. It's how he rolls." Havoc's eyes narrowed, "And if anybody ever tells Mustang I said any of that, especially the last part, I will use your body as a human shield when he tries to burn me to death."

"I don't think you have to worry about that, Jean," Sig confirmed.

Gracia looked around, "That's odd, Riza's still not back."

Jean agreed, "That is unlike her, to not say where she's going, I mean, not in situations like this."

Izumi commentated, "Roy Mustang and she are close, aren't they?"

Jean slapped a hand to his forehead, "They share half of the other's brain. They don't have to talk to each other to know what the other's thinking. And they say they don't, but they've developed a highly intelligent and confusing mode of communication that only the other can understand."

Gracia piped in, "They met before Ishval because Riza's father was Roy's alchemy teacher. They met up again when Riza saved him and Maes from an attack. It's been 11 or 12 years they've been loyal to one another, and about 13 or 14 years they've known each other."

Havoc scratched the side of his head and gave a lop-sided smile, "I didn't know a lot of that. Just the loyal long time part." Havoc looked at Izumi again, "Any particular reason you asked?"

Izumi leaned her head on Sig's arm, "You said it was Roy Mustang on the phone, and when you were talking to him, he kept asking about Riza."

Havoc reaffirmed, "You can bet they'll always be lookin' out for one another."

"It reminds me of Al and Ed. They could look at each other and know what the other was thinking, even when they were boys. They may have argued with each other, but that's just a brotherly trait. They would have died for each other, no hesitation. Of course, despite the fact that Ed has a genius IQ, he is much too indiscreet and egomaniacal to be covert. Now Al on the other hand," Izumi gave a small laugh, "Al is vastly more cautious than Ed. I guess whatever their means of communication, their first priorities were each other." Izumi's eyes fixed on the limitless blue sky through the white-panged window. "I admire that. But they should have taken a look around once in a while. Winry feels abandoned."

Gracia looked at Elysia going through the pouch of food she brought, "One should not look at what they have lost, lest the contentment drain from what they have had."

Havoc went beside Gracia and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, "Couldn't have said it better myself, my friend."

Pinako walked in as soon as Izumi was leaving for the restroom. When she opened the door, her attention was instantaneously drawn to the soft croon of splutters. Izumi looked under the stalls and saw the bottom of a long, navy skirt and black combat boots. She walked to the last stall and knocked, "Riza, are you alright?" She heard Riza clear her throat and sniffle a last time before opening the stall.

Composed as ever, Riza declared, "Yes."

Izumi noticed her face wasn't red but a couple tears fell. Riza wiped them away as swiftly as possible. "This is a rather bittersweet day, isn't it? There has been a virtuous soul born, but a loneliness has befallen the mother. "

"I'm assuming she told you about the misunderstanding with Ed," Izumi acknowledged Riza's assumption. Riza slumped against the stall intermediate, "I think it's dominantly sweet. Despite the agonizing birth, Winry will be happy with Emile," Riza smiled.

"Then why have you been crying in a stall for over half an hour?" Izumi leaned against the ashen sinks in front of the soap-smeared mirror.

Riza's miniature smile didn't falter as her eyes dropped to the floor beleaguered with rutted paper towels, "I just wish I could have that."

"So do I."

Jean put his feet up on the low table scattered with magazines and newspapers, "Riza, Mustang's probably on his way."

Riza blinked in astonishment, "He's coming here? That's peculiar."

Havoc laughed, "That's what I said! Then he kept asking about you and I said I'd tell you to call him. Then I called him Negative Nancy and hung up. Pushaw! But yeah, he's probably already gone."

Riza rolled her eyes, "No doubt skipping out on work. He's so useless." Havoc opened his mouth but Riza beat him to the bat, "I, unlike him, work efficiently. Besides, this is the first day I have taken off in years."

The gang of friends talked amicably and laughed at Havoc's comments for a while. They eventually drank enough coffee that they would bleed it if cut. They occasionally went to the nursery to check up on Emile, as if he was going to perish in the cotton blankets wrapped around him.

Gracia was holding Elysia up to gape at Emile when a mild proposal drew her attention to Roy Mustang, "Hey, Gracia, I'll hold her if you want."

"Thank you, Roy," Gracia handed Elysia to him and the little girl purely beamed at him then looked back to Emile. "She can't stop looking at him. She's decided he's her baby brother."

"So it's a boy, huh?" Roy peered pass the dark circles of his eyes at the baby. "What'd she name him?"

Gracia reservedly gawked at how banged up Roy appeared to be, "Um. Uh, Emile. She named him Emile Alarace."

"Elric, I'm assuming," his eyes fluttered but his hold on Elysia tightened.

Gracia forced herself to look away from Roy, "Yes. When did Riza tell-'

Roy sighed, "She didn't. I heard it through the grapevine. Seems everyone knew it but me. Not surprising I guess."

After Elysia was satisfied with goggling the baby, Roy set her down and she galloped across the sterile floor to the waiting room. Gracia laid a hand on Roy's shoulder, "What's happening, Roy?"

"That's not relevant. How is Winry?" he leaned against the off-white wall beside the glass window, arms crossed.

Gracia, with an undertone of mirth, stated, "She is under _heavy_ sedation. She's said some whacky things so we decided it best to leave her to try and sleep for a while."

"I could be making an ass of myself but do women usually stay under heavy sedation after childbirth?" Roy closed his eyes and leaned his head on the wall.

Once again inwardly questioning Roy's behavior, she said, "No, but she accidentally had a natural birth."

"Natural childbirth, huh? That sounds horrible."

"You should have heard Winry when it was happening."

Riza and Izumi were going to retrieve _more_ coffee when Roy's tall frame and ghastly skin caught Riza's eagle eye. Havoc came out of the waiting room, nearly ramming into Riza, "Dammit, Riza! I'm tryin' to walk here!" He followed Riza's line of sight, "Hey, Mustang. Wow, you look like shit."

"Such lovely compliments," Roy looked back into the nursery.

Havoc and Riza stood against the opposite wall Roy and Gracia occupied while Izumi patiently rested against the waiting room doorframe.

"So why'd you come alone? Where's the guys?" Havoc placed an unlit cigarette he intended to smoke before running into Riza behind his ear.

"They'll be here later. Fürher Grumman told me to go on because I was 'bringing down everyone's good time'. I think Catalina was about to have a seizure to get here," Roy straightened his shirt, feeling Riza's scrutiny.

"Oh," Havoc grinned, "so Rebecca's coming here, is she?"

Riza scoffed, "Keep it in your pants, Jean, there are children here."

A man with beady eyes and a bald head walked up to the nursery window, totally ignoring that he bumped into Gracia. Roy irritably pulled her by the elbow to the opposite side of him, "Hey, you can watch where you're going or say 'excuse me' or you could just fuck off." His comrades wore surprised faces at his abrasiveness.

The man scorned Roy and venomously hissed, "So sorry."

Roy's jaw locked, "You will be if you knock into her again."

_He's drunk_. "Sir, you just got off the train, perhaps you should go in the waiting room and rest," Riza coaxed.

"I'm fine, Hawkeye," Roy refuted.

"Brigadier General-"

The man that bumped Gracia mocked, "Aw, Brigadier General Roy Mustang? I didn't know such high military personnel were drunks."

Riza stood off the wall, "Sir-"

Roy held up a hand, "No, Lieutenant Colonel, I've got it." Roy yanked the man by his shirt, "I didn't know such low mental defectives were faggots."

Riza scolded, "Brigadier General! Don't talk like that! Just calm-"

The man further taunted, "Yeah _Brigadier General, _you better listen to the tramp."

Havoc got piqued and pushed off the wall, ready to insult the man, but didn't get the chance. Roy slung the man by his shirt from the window and into the white-painted cement wall a couple feet beside the glass. The man's head bashed into the wall and he made a small yelp. Roy's hand took hold of the man's throat, the other hand still twisted into the front of the man's shirt. "You should learn to shut your mouth." Then Roy began punctuating his next words by pulling the man forward by the shirt and utilized the noose-like hold on the man's neck to slam his head back into the wall, "Don't. Ever. Fucking. Call. Riza. A. Tramp. Or. I'll. Feed. You. Your. Heart."

Riza took hold of the back of Roy's jacket and the sleeve of the arm strangling the man, "Sir, stop. Brigadier General, stop!"

The man rasped, "You…can't do this. What else you think you're gonna do, _Roy_?"

Riza eased Roy from the man but he still growled, "Dance on your grave after I singe layer after layer of your skin until you're nothing but a goddamn skeleton." Riza steadily pulled a huffing Roy away from the man. Everybody seemed to relax- until the man opened the orifice that kept digging a deeper hole.

"I guess you're right, Mustang," the man brought the bloody hand from behind his head, "I shouldn't be calling _Riza_ that. After all, the Fullmetal Alchemist landed the whore."

Izumi unfolded her arms, ready to finish cracking the man's cranium, but Roy broke away from Riza like a bat out of hell. His fist smashed the man's face, a grave snap electrifying the air. A squeal and dashing footsteps could be heard in the direction of the nurses' station. That was immaterial to Roy however. The man hit the ground like a cinderblock. Like the nurses rushing to assemble security, this too was immaterial to Roy. His knee violently plunged into the man's chest; the other- though Roy made no acknowledgment- ferociously hit the solid floor. He corkscrewed his hand in the front of the man's shirt again, nearly ripping it, and his fist relentlessly crashed into the man's face. Abundant gurgling and crackles echoed in the hall. "Brigadier General!" Riza latched onto Roy's arm, "Stop! **Stop**!" Roy's arm broke away from Riza's hold but Riza wrapped herself around it again, this time, she was merciless. Ripping Roy off of the man, Riza then pinned Roy to the ground under the nursery window, "Brigadier General, calm down!"

Swallowing his acute abhorrence for the man and his question of how the man knew who Winry was, Havoc yelled for a nurse to come and help him as the left side of the man's face was noticeably caved in. The nurses were stationary, mortified to get near Roy. However a man and a woman ran to the man. The other man lifted the man with a destroyed face and yelled at Roy, "Just because my brother don't agree with little girls running around like jezebels, fucking everyone they see and gettin' pregnant, you can't hit him!"

The woman added, "Yeah, you think those kids know what love is? Love is gettin' married before you have kids! That baby in there is a little abomination, born out of wedlock! That little beast and its harlot mother have a one-way ticket to hell! You don't see me goin' around actin' like-"

Izumi punched the woman so hard, she knocked her mere inches from the nurses' station, which was deserted by this time. The woman screamed as blood gushed from her nose and a slice on her cheek and forehead. Next, Izumi picked up the unharmed man and pitched him to the other side of the hallway. When the man hit the concrete wall, it cracked and some places caved in, and he hit the floor, barely conscious. She powerfully cautioned, "You will never understand what you condemn if you are not willing to listen and learn." Izumi clapped her hands and took hold of her alchemized spear, "You think you're going to heaven, do you? I hope God shows you mercy because I will not." She began to walk towards the woman when she felt a tug on her spear. Sig held the other end of the spear as Elysia's head was buried in his shoulder.

"This will achieve nothing but two coffins on your conscience, Izumi." After a moment, Izumi spun her spear, bracing it with both hands at opposite ends, and broke the body over her knee. Sig nodded.

"Take Elysia back in the waiting room; I will step down, honey." Izumi stood back and gritted her teeth, awaiting the ongoing struggle between Roy and Riza to end.

"Sir, you have to calm down! Stop fighting me, the situation's over!" Roy rolled Riza and himself over, almost breaking away from Riza but she tackled his waist, "Brigadier General, stop!"

Izumi, realizing Roy wasn't going to stop wrestling with Riza, went to pull him off but Riza declared, "No, Izumi!" Riza rolled Roy underneath her again, pinning him to the floor as her forearm became a dumbbell bar across his neck and one knee nailed one of his hands down, her opposite hand pressuring his free arm's elbow. "Sir, you have to calm down. Look! The situation is over! You've done enough damage, now stop!"

Roy snarled, "Let me up, Riza."

"Are you going to attack that man again, or the people with him?"

"Yes."

"Then I cannot let you up."

"I order you to let me up, Hawkeye."

"Too bad," Riza frowned.

"You're going to let those fucks talk about Ed and Winry like that? Really? Are you serious?" Roy roared. "If Ed was here, he'd rip the bitches limb from limb!"

"Sir," Riza sighed, unmoving, "You're drunk."

"I'm not drunk."

"I know when you're drunk."

"I'm not _drunk_."

Riza relaxed her grip on Roy's elbow, distracted by the argument, and Roy ripped his hand loose and grabbed her hair. Though she felt the brutal tugs on her hair, she did not willingly surrender. But Roy's inhuman wrenches became so rough that Riza was thrown off his body trying to pull his hand from her fair-colored hair. Seeing Riza brutalized by Roy made something in Havoc snap. He was the closest and he drove his knee into Roy's arm, forcing his hand to relinquish Riza's hair. Izumi ran to Gracia, pulling her around the fighting threesome, escorting her into the waiting room where Sig was holding Elysia, having perceived the state of affairs immediately.

Havoc staggered to his feet, hoisting Roy by the shirt with him. He swung Roy away from his and Riza's direction while Riza propelled herself from the ground. Havoc unforgivingly punched Roy in the mouth, causing his lip to split against his teeth. "What? That guy can't call Riza a tramp but you can assault her? What kind of fucked up reasoning is that, Roy?"

Riza coughed, "Jean, it's ok. It's ok, I'm fine. He's drunk."

Roy spluttered while holding his mouth, "I'm not drunk."

"Yes, he is," Riza touched Havoc's arm, "sometimes he gets this way when he's drunk."

Havoc had a bad feeling, "Rebecca was right, wasn't she? He's done this to you before, hasn't he?" Havoc's voice kept escalating, "Hasn't he?"

Riza shook her head, "No, he hasn't. I've never seen him like this; he's never been violent with me until just now."

Havoc glowered, "Then where did that bruise Rebecca told me about come from?" He pointed to her bicep that had come into public view after the tussle. "Where did _that_ come from?"

"It was an accident," Riza spoke honestly. Roy fell into the wall and he rested his forehead against it. "He goes out to bars all over Central and calls me in the middle of the night to come get him. When I get him, he usually has busted up knuckles or bloody noses, and when he uses me for support, he'll grab too hard by accident."

Havoc breathed through his nose, "This is going to stop. Now."

Riza pushed on his chest, "Don't fuckin' touch him, Jean."

Jean's eyes narrowed, "Why are you still protecting him, Riza? Why are you letting him do this? He told you if he fell off the righteous path to shoot him in the back. You're keeping one promise and breaking the other. So pick the one best for everyone!"

"No!" Riza opined.

"Why not?" Jean gazed at her incredulously.

"Because this is my fault."

"No, it isn't, Riza! He just-"

"Not the situation right now; I'm the reason he started drinking so much all the time."

Jean relaxed, "What are you talking about?"

"We crossed a line, Jean. One we shouldn't have crossed; one that we've never crossed before. And never will again. I initiated it and I ended it. We've been killing ourselves ever since. You cannot fix this."

The hospital security team hustled through the hallways with a couple of the nurses who identified Roy as the attacker. Then the woman Izumi punched called out, "That lady with the dreadlocks hit me and my husband!"

"She's lying," Roy scoffed to the guards, "I busted her face, and I'd do it again." Knowing he'd easily get out of trouble, Roy held his hands out, head still leaning against the wall. A security guard handcuffed his blood-stained hands.

As they ushered him past Riza and Havoc, he admitted, "Hey, Riza, I'm drunk."

_Moosach, Germany, June 14, 1941_

Ed shot up from his slumber in the tent he shared with Al and Emilien. Al's eyes opened and he leaned up on his elbow. Trying not to wake Emilien, Al whispered, "Ed, what's wrong?"

Ed spoke over his shoulder, "Dream. I had a dream about Winry. She was screaming and she was in pain." His forehead slackened against his palm, closing his heated eyes, "It was just so…real."

Al sat up, "It was just a dream, Ed. Winry's fine. She has a slew of people watching over her; and we both can say she's not exactly the vulnerable type."

"Al," Ed breathed, "I can't stand this." Al regarded his brother with compassionate eyes, "I'll never know if she's ok or if she's happy." Ed curled up his knees and rested his head on them, his golden hair a shield, "I can't stand to not…know if she's angry, if she forgives me."

"Oh, shut up, Ed," Al whispered vehemently. "You _know_ she does, so stop beating yourself up about it. There's one thing you know: if she saw how neurotic you're being, she'd bash your head in with a wrench. Or cry a river that you're upset. Either way would make you snap out of this funk."

"I guess," Ed sighed. "I've got negative vibes left and right. Maybe I'm reading too far between the lines, but I feel like something really bad is about to befall us, Al. And I just wonder if the same is going to happen to Winry."

Al crinkled his nose, "What are you talking about?"

"The Roma are being hunted down, Al. The Nazis are going psycho; they're hunting _everybody_ down. We need to leave Germany."

"We can't just leave them, they may-"

"I've already decided; we aren't staying here."

"You don't get to make all the decisions for us, Ed. I'm 50 percent of us, so I should get some say in it."

Winding his head around to look at Emilien and back to Al, Ed looked into eyes nearly identical to his own, "Alphonse, trust me. Trust my instincts. These Nazis are keeping something under wraps and I won't let us get caught in it."

"That's selfish, Brother. Think of all the Roma we're-"

Ed snapped, "I'm not being selfish. You're the reason we're leaving." Al's eyes furrowed, "After the human transmutation went haywire, what happened?"

"You lost your leg and I lost my body."

"How could I bond your soul to that armor?"

"With your blood, by sacrificing your arm. But, Ed, what does this-"

"Why did I sacrifice my arm for you, Al?"

Al frowned, "Because you're my brother…"

Ed nodded, "Yes, we are brothers, but you're also my best friend, Al."

"Ed-"

"Why did I travel with you, Al?"

"To find the Philosopher's Stone and restore our bodies."

"Why else?"

"So we would be together."

"Why else, Brother?"

"I don't know what else you want me to answer with."

"Ok, answer this instead. Why did I transmute my body, mind, and soul to drag you back from the Gate?"

"I can't answer. I never understood or accepted your reasoning."

Ed fully shuffled his body toward Al and pushed his tresses back, "I had to protect you, Al. I _have _to protect you. I'm willing to take the blame for anything that ensues for the Roma, for this group, but I will not chance losing you for them. I don't care how cruel that sounds either. I'm your brother, Al, and I'll protect you at any cost. If the price is my death, it is what I'll pay."

Al gasped, "Let's say you're right, Ed. Where will we go?"

"I'm aiming for France. It's the closest to where we are. Then we can regroup and get our heads on straight."

"Why don't we just stick around and get our heads on straight before we jump into something, Ed?"

Ed laughed, "It's not my style, Al."

"I'm aware."

"Fine. We'll stick around and travel with the Roma for now, but if I think things are getting too incalculable or bizarre and off-color, we're departing," Ed took a deep breath.

"Ok, Brother. I trust you." Al laid down facing Ed, "And, _for the millionth time_, Winry loves you, you pigheaded pessimist, so accept that and keep moving."

A second after the words left Al's mouth, Emilien sat up- giving the brothers near cardiac arrest-, "Could I come?"

Ed and Al looked at each other then turned to Emilien, "Definitely." Ed added, "As long as you don't drag us down. Don't overestimate my empathy; I will drop your ass without blinking my eyes."

Emilien smile, "That won't be a problem. Also…"

Ed laid his head back down, "Luminista can come with us. After all she is your niece," Ed snorted, "and wittle Alphonse has a cwush on her."

"Shut up, Ed!"

Ed turned his head to look at his brother, "Why, oh brother of mine, are you blushing?"

Al punched Ed's shoulder, "I'm not blushing!"

"You know what we do when we lie? Deny, deny, deny."

"You're so embarrassing!"

After a few moments of silence Ed turned his head from Al, "Don't stop, Al."

Al gazed at his brother's profile against the tent, "What are you talking about, Ed?"

"If I fall, if I don't get out of this alive, you can't stop. You take Luminista and Emilien and do whatever it takes to survive. I want you out of this world."

"I won't go anywhere without you, Brother."

Ed's eyes met Al's, "Yes, you will. I want you to be able to use alchemy again. I want you to be safe. I want you to get back to everybody, especially the person waiting most; she's always waiting the most." Al tried to interrupt him but he kept talking, "Winry needs one of us. And no matter how much I want her and love her, if it's you or me, it _will_ be you."

Ed rolled on his side, facing away from Al, when he heard the delicate certification, "Come hell or high water, I will pay the price for you too, Brother."


	5. The Harrowing Gut Reaction

Warning: Gore

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do not own the manga/anime characters, plots, or creation.

**Bless My Body, Bless My Soul**

**By TheKennethAnger**

Chapter 5: The Harrowing Gut Reaction

**Aut viam inveniam aut faciam**** - ****I will either find a way or make one**

_Tuntenhausen,Germany September 28, 1941_

"Ed, you were right," Al cowered.

Ed and Al peaked around the corner of the dilapidated building, a rusted canopy shielding them and the trembling Roma from the sun, "I wish I wasn't."

The men with soulless eyes and standout uniforms forced the family of four, two being children trying to cling to their parents, onto their knees. The Elric brothers couldn't hear what they were saying to the doomed family, but when the soldiers raised their guns and shot the parents, the little girls started screaming. Ed's eyes widened in horror and he rapidly wrapped his arm around his younger brother's waist and pulled Al back behind the corner of the building to obstruct his view of the scene, "Don't look, Alphonse." The girls' screams were silenced as gunshots rung through the air like banging cymbals.

"Those little girls, Ed…" Al murmured.

"We have to leave, Al. Come on- now." Releasing his brother, he started past the Roma, who all crept behind him. Al, however, was immobilized. _Those little girls…those little girls and their parents. _Al peered back around the corner and saw the Nazis walking in the opposite direction of him. Then his eyes focused on the massacred family.

The tan sleeve of his jacket was tugged hurriedly, "Alphonse, quickly. We can't stay here." Al's eyes fell to meet demanding emerald eyes. Al looked back to the slain family until a bronzed hand lightly cupped his cheek and curved his head away from the atrocious sight.

Al faced her spellbinding eyes as she rubbed her thumb back and forth over his cheekbone. He encircled her wrist, "No, we can't." He took her hand and silently strode down the path Ed and the Roma took, drawing her close behind him, "My brother was right- we have to find a way out of Germany, Luminista."

Briskly treading after their group, Luminista's coppery skin tone and lengthy auburn hair, despite the switch from her colorful robes to an unremarkable chocolate-colored pantsuit, grabbed the attention of a stray, patrolling Nazi, "Hey, gypsy! Come here!" He reached for his gun, cocking the hammer.

Al and Luminista froze and looked to the man. Knowing that ethnicity didn't make a difference because the Nazi would kill anyone who wasn't of German descent, Alphonse lied to buy some time, "No, sir, she is most certainly not a gypsy! I would never touch such a filthy varmint! This is my wife from India. I met her on a missionary trip and she beseeched for me to lead her down the path to salvation once she understood that was the only way to heaven."

The Nazi seemed apprehensive, "You look a little young to be married, don't you think, son?"

Alphonse laughed and shook his head, "Oh, sir, I am only 18, but love has no age."

The Nazi walked closer as he interrogated, "And how old are you, _Indian_?"

Al subtly squeezed Luminista's hand. Having traveled to India, Luminista took on an Indian accent, "I am 21, sir." _Dammit to hell, Alphonse, I don't look _close_ to being Indian. _

"Yes, Amala is older than me but she is much younger in spirit," Al looked at Luminista lovingly. Knowing Ed would have noticed he and Luminista were missing by now, he bought time until he had his brother to play the distraction, giving him the chance to attack the Nazi. "Amala, tell this nice soldier what you said you had high spirits for."

Luminista, covering her desperation with a smile, looked at Al as if she was recalling a sweet memory. She paused for a moment while Al turned his head completely toward her and gently smiled back as though he was too admiring the memory. Al squeezed Luminista's hand again and hastily rolled his eyes upwards, where the Nazi could not see, and turned back to the Nazi. Catching on, Luminista adopted a dreamy face, "I love my Christophe's gorgeous blonde hair and I wish I could have the same color. It is the flawless hair color." Luminista sighed, "Unfortunately, my hair is this hideous dark color and my eyes are green, even though I'd prefer blue. Blue is such a beautiful color." Luminista looked to the ground, "But I suppose I will forever be cursed with my appearance; always being mistaken for a repulsive roamer is so embarrassing."

Cue Ed blazing into the situation, "Hey! What the hell, Al? I told you to come on!"

The Nazi's head snapped towards Edward, "What did you just call him?"

Ed halted when he noticed the Nazi, "It's just a nickname, you know, kind of like-"

Al took this opportunity to bring the Nazi to the ground. He launched his body weight into the Nazi's arm and thumped the gun out of his hand. The gun hit the ground and Al twisted the Nazi's arm behind his back, causing his knees to hit the pavement. Then Al slated his rock-solid punch into the back of the soldier's head. Luminista was in a state between awe and shock; she had never seen Al be authoritatively violent. To a degree, she didn't think he _could_ be violent. Ed grabbed Luminista's wrist, snapping out of her daze, and started running, "But Ed," she looked back at Al assaulting the Nazi, "Al-"

Ed confirmed, "Alphonse can take care of himself! Trust me, he never loses hand to hand combat!"

"Regardless, we can't just leave him!"

"I'm not!" Ed let go of Luminista's wrist and shoved her into Emilien's waiting embrace, who lugged her in the direction she and Ed had been running, "Everybody's that way! Keep running straight; and don't stop until you're with them!" Luminista paused and stared at him. However, Ed growled, "Go!"

Spinning around, Ed sprinted back to Al. While Al contained the Nazi, Ed rushed over to their position. Al and Ed connected eyes. Al released the soldier's arm and reared back, yanking the soldier's head back, fingers nearly uprooting his hair. Ed's right fist crashed into the Nazi's temple, breaking open pieces of the faux skin around his automail knuckles. When the brothers turned to exit, they were met with guns about five feet away from their faces. One Nazi holding a gun in each hand declared, "You traitors are coming with me. Put your hands on your head and turn around." The brothers' eyes connected again. Folding their hands behind their heads, the Elric brothers turned around. "Shooting you motherfuckers is letting you off easy. Start walking, boys, and you better enjoy the fresh air; once you're in the camp, the only thing you'll smell is rotting corpses."

Al and Ed stepped forward as the Nazi held guns to their heads. Without warning, without a sound, and without sluggishness, Ed and Al unclasped their hands and took hold of their captor's respective wrists then, using their free hands, snapped the Nazi's hands outward. Immediately, agonizingly, both of the man's guns hit the pavement. The man yelped with surprise from the pain that shot through his wrists. Ed and Al's forearms banged into each other's when they slammed their elbows backwards into the Nazi's face. The man's head cracked back and his knees gave out, Ed and Al holding him up by his detained wrists. As if aiming for the end of a rainbow, Al and Ed kicked the guns to an excessive distance from the man's reach. Releasing the fallen Nazi's wrists, the brothers got half way to where the first Nazi had collapsed only to find the first Nazi reaching to his belt for another gun. With the hammer dropped, his arm turned towards Al and Ed.

Redirecting his aim from Ed to Al he snarled, "You first, big man." When the Nazi's finger was pressuring the trigger, Ed dived in front of Al as the bullet took flight. The bullet hit the back of Ed's left shoulder. The man sent another bead of lead payback that embedded into his left leg.

Al fell backwards and Ed toppled on top of him. Al immediately tried to jump into action until he head his brother speak.

"Stay down, Al," Ed groaned.

Panic drowned Al, "I'm not going to use you like you're armor, Ed!"

Luckily, no push came to shove when the shooter squealed. Al sat up despite his brother's weight and lifted Ed, face down, off the pavement. To his surprise, Emilien had gotten the gun. "Emilien!" Emilien held the gun up in victory but instantaneously saw the soldier about to grab his ankle. Without weighing his options, Emilien pointed the gun to the Nazi's head and blew his brains against the pavement.

Emilien stumbled to Al and Ed, "We have to get out of here!" Sirens sounded. "Hurry! They're responding to the string of gunshots!"

Al got to his knees, fork-lifting Ed up, but Ed protested, "I'm not an invalid!" Pressing his hand against the ground, Ed hoisted himself up, "We don't have time for this shit!"

Al offered his arm as a lever, "Ed, it'd be better if I carry y-"

Ed stood with the help of Al's arm, "It doesn't matter if it's better; it's slower! Now, let's go!"

Emilien, unknowing of Ed's resilience from pain, gaped and his eyes doubled in size. _He has two bullets in him._ Emilien began to run with Ed and Al, but expelled a second bullet from the gun. The bullet shot through the other Nazi's chin and came out the top of his skull. He tossed the gun onto the concrete on his way through the back of the alley as the sirens became deafening.

Upon arriving where the Roma were hiding, Al ordered, "We've gotta keep moving. A lot more soldiers are going to show up and start scouting the area. Try to be as quiet as possible."

Paying no mind to Ed or Emilien, the Roma looked at Al's façade and jogged the other way. Luminista caught up with Al, "Where will we go?"

"To a different city. We need to get to France," Al panted. "Brother was right, I should've listened to him. Now he's hurt because of me."

Luminista glanced behind her shoulder, vaguely spotting a hefty amount of blood seeping through Ed's jacket. She saw his eyebrows furrowed and heard his brash panting. Luminista violently spun around, causing her to almost tip over, but Al caught her and kept her moving. He grabbed her hand again and carted her along. "What happened? Why is he bleeding?"

Al simply replied, "He got shot in the arm and leg."

Luminista gaped, "How is he running like this?"

Al glanced at her then fixed his eyes forward again, "Ed has more supernatural tolerance for pain than you can imagine."

Luminista said nothing more. The Roma ran until their legs were numb. One of the younger Roma stopped and squatted, "I can't run anymore."

Al halted, "That's fine, you don't have to. We'll rest for a bit. We're pretty far from the alley. The only way they could connect us to the crime now is Ed's injuries."

Some of the women lurched towards Ed while the standing ones surrounded him. All eyes fell on his paling face and the amount of blood on his jacket and pant leg. He swayed on his feet. "Everybody back off," he wheezed, "I'm fine. We need to find a modus operandi to get to another city."

Al walked to Ed, "Brother, rest, we need to stop your phlebotomizing."

The girl on the ground puffed, "What is phlebotozming?"

Al claimed, "I'll tell you later."

Ed bellowed, "There's no time for that. We had to leave the carts behind, and even if we didn't, we'd have to exchange for faster transportation." Ed's head lulled, Al's arms outreach, ready to catch him, but Ed shook his head and planted his feet firmly on the ground. "I can take it, Al. You and I both know I've had tenfold worse." The Roma looked at each other in amazement.

Al bit his lip, "Ed, you're in no condition-"

"Don't tell me what I'm in condition for, Al," Ed started walking again turning to Al, "we have to find a map and hopefully a train station."

"But Brother," Al turned to the Roma momentarily, "we don't have enough money to buy tickets for everyone." Ed doubled over, his hands gripping his knees, his injured leg briefly gave out, causing him to stagger and lose his balance. Al tried to stabilize him but he push his hand away, "Ed-"

Ed waved him off and laughed, "When have we ever played by the rules, Alphonse?"

Eventually, the group stumbled upon a tiny town. Surveying and accepting their position behind a string of multiple story apartment buildings, Ed turned to Al, his eyes nearly rolling in the back of his head, "You ask somebody where the closest train station is. And find a map." He laughed, though it was cut short by deep gasps, "I don't think anybody would much listen to me."

"Ok, Ed," Al, not stopping on his journey away from the group, commented to Luminista, "make sure he doesn't hit his head when he passes out."

Emilien put his hand on Ed's back as the blonde steadied himself by an arm against a nearby building, "Ed, I'm not telling you what to do, but maybe you should sit down for a minute."

"How many times do I have to say I'm-" Ed was cut half mid-sentence when he threw up pure bile. His leg gave out again but he bent over and gripped his knee again.

Luminista approached him and spoke with an evident English accent, "Ed, Al and Emilien are right. You need to lie down and pressure your wounds."

To everyone's dismay, Ed spit to get the acrimonious taste out of his mouth, "I don't need to do a damn thing."

Noah followed Luminista's example, only she placed a hand on his back, "Ed, I agree, these three are right."

Ed growled like a vicious tiger and stepped out of Noah's reach, "For the last _fucking_ time, Noah, _don't touch me_!"

The excitement overpowered Ed's exhausted body and his eyes rolled back in his head a couple times. Luminista, not wanting to let Al down, caught Edward's head as his body collapsed to the ground. Unfortunately, Luminista fell to ground also, but sighed when she saw Ed's head was hunched onto the bend of her leg. Emilien stepped forward, "Nice save, Luminista." He looked at Edward's pastel face color and the circumference of the blood stains. "I swear he's a machine." Luminista exhaustedly smiled and pulled Ed's head into her lap. Emilien excused himself to go around and check on the rest of the group. After a while, Emilien flopped onto his stomach and his arms extended. Luminista gave a small smile and looked at Ed. She pushed a loose piece of his hair back. _I swear Al and him look just alike. They have the oddest eye color. I wish they'd tell me where they're from._ Many of the Roma had fallen asleep, including Emilien, as the clock ticked and the sun was a couple hours away from setting.

Looking at her sleeping comrades, Luminista memorized the tanned faces of her fellow Roma, stress lines and thick eyelashes abundant. Black and brunette hair was strewn in waves on the grassy backyard of the building. The ones that were awake were all braiding their straggled hair or talking like the world would turn out to be a paradise after the Nazis were taken out of power. Her heart turned black and blue when she thought about how they had to throw away their vibrant dresses and scarves and heritage, and her heart broke at the thought that some of them may not survive this war declared on Roma, declared on the country.

Emilien sat up beside her and she made direct eye contact, "Did you see Al?"

He wanted to gain clarification so he asked, "When?"

"When he was fighting that soldier."

"Not really. I saw him grab the gun and then I got distracted with you and Ed running to me."

"Ok, let me rephrase: did you ever see him in a fight before I came from England?"

Emilien lay on the ground, head towards the blue sky, and closed his eyes, "Not that I recollect. I mean, he fought with Ed all the time, but they were just horsing around…I think…"

"He was…primal. I would have never suspected Al could be dynamite." Luminista pondered, "He just…he was so nonchalant about it. Like he had a rehearsed routine he practiced every day."

Emilien opened his eyes, "Al _was_ nonchalant now that I think about it. The only time he got worked up is when Ed first got shot and he tried to carry him. But afterword, yeah he was calm."

Luminista gazed down at Ed, "Yet only Ed was hit."

"That brainwashed soldier aimed for Al first, I guess because he attacked him first. But Ed threw his body over Al when the guy pulled the trigger."

"Wow. Not many people would take a bullet for someone. So Al got shot at too?"

"Yes."

"Yet he's so calm. And then Ed acts like he doesn't feel anything. But he has to or he wouldn't have passed out...and let's not forget he was _shot_. And I can't fathom that he still has bullets in his body and losing so much blood, yet acting like nothing is even wrong."

"I know you've been around them for quite the while, but I've been around them a bit longer and I still can't figure them out. They're always talking about another world they've made up and about doing alchemy. And all they do is study science and read books at alarming paces." Emilien chuckled, "They're awfully weird." The laughter declined, "But when Ed said he'd had worse than this, that was over my head."

Luminista thought aloud, "They must have come from a rough place."

Emilien sat up, "Probably, but I can't figure out where. They've never said anything and they don't have identifiable accents. A few months ago, I asked Al what did they do before they met us, he said," Emilien used a voice to imitate/mock Al's voice, "Ed had wrench fights while I tasted metal."

"Do I really sound like that?" Al interceded, causing Luminista and Emilien to laugh. Al noticed Ed out cold, "I knew he'd pass out." Al's following movements were swift as he passed a few pints of water he had in his arms. Then he pulled out crackers and half a loaf of white bread enclosed in plastic wrap to Noah, "Here, Noah, will you pass these out?" Noah obliged while Al pulled out a roll of clean gauze and long reach tweezers from the paper bag he was carrying. He also extracted a bottle of peroxide only big enough to hold about 20 tablespoons.

"Al, how did you get all this stuff?" Luminista smirked.

"Only by means necessary."

Luminista snickered while Emilien asked, "Huh? What are you talking about?"

Al gave a honey-coated smile, "I just have my ways is all." Al turned around, "Does everybody have enough water?" They all commented in the nature of 'yes'. "Spectacular." Al sat Ed up and started pushing his russet coat off, "Luminista, can you pull the sleeves for me?" Luminista took hold of the coat and folded it while Al eased Ed onto his right side to the ground. "You two better step back," Al warned Luminista and Emilien. Al huffed, "Here it goes." He tipped the pint of water up and poured half of it on Ed's face.

Ed's igneous golden orbs were revealed and Ed ripped the pint from Al's hand and threw it at his brother, spraying the water all over Al and the surrounding area, "Why the hell'd you do that, Al?"

"For laughs," Al shrugged his shoulders.

Ed attempted to sit up but he fell back on his elbows, effectually receiving a pain worse than being hit by a mac truck. He put all his weight onto his automail and winced, "Should have seen that comin'."

Al inquired, "Ed, I need to get to your wounds."

Ed blinked, "Ok, and…?"

"I didn't know if you were comfortable to get undressed with everybody watching."

Ed scoffed, "Like I give a damn." Then his eyes drifted to Noah and narrowed, "On second thought, yes, I _do_ give a damn."

Al held back his laugh, "Ok." Without warning, he pulled Ed up by his automail and slung him over his shoulder.

"What the hell, Al? Is this completely necessary?" Ed choked.

"Your wounds are on your back, so this is the best way."

"I-"

"Stop complaining, you're starting to sound like the Colonel."

"Let's not jump to extremes!"

Al nodded to Luminista, "Get his coat."

Ed whined, "Al, I can only afford so much blood."

Al looked up at Emilien and Luminista, "I need you two to help me with the gauze- "Ed groaned, "-and to watch for any abnormalities on one wound that I don't see while I'm working on the other."

Luminista peeped through windows of the next couple buildings, finding an empty room, "I thought you just said you give a damn if people see you, Ed." She spread out the coat on the hardwood floor and locked the door they came in and the door on the opposite wall.

Ed jeered, "I don't."

Al bit back another laugh, "He thinks Noah will be eye-raping him."

"No, I _know_ it."

Emilien and Al placed Ed on the coat. "Ok, sit up," Al commanded.

Ed's head lulled to the side, "If you think I can sit up, you're high or you obviously have no idea how much blood I've lost."

Al challenged, "Let me get this straight, your chest can get impaled and you get up walking around afterwards _like you did when Kimbley beat you_? But a couple bullets are keeping you down?

Luminista and Emilien looked to each other with very shocked faces as Ed countered,  
"First off, I had alchemy to close up the wound enough so I wouldn't bleed to death; second, I had to go to a doctor after it happened; and third, Kimbley did not _beat_ me."

Luminista and Emilien's widened eyes met again.

"Then why did a metal column impale you?"

Ed mumbled, "Because he cheated."

"No he didn't, Ed, you just can't stand you lost a fight."

"Hey, he had two Philosopher's Stones! That's a textbook case of cheating."

"Really? A _textbook case_, you say?"

"There's one thing I'm not too weak to do," Ed flipped Al off.

Al directed, "Ok, help me get your shirt off."

"Al, I just told you I can't sit up; I don't have any strength right now," Ed rasped. Al scooted back a few feet from Ed and grinned, "What?"

Al covered his face with his hand, vainly failing to swallow his laugh. He looked overtop his hand at Ed, "When you crashed in the airplane you had enough strength. I bet your clothes would be off in less than five seconds if Winry was here."

Ed's face turned red and he started flailing his arm to get ahold of Al, but his weak state didn't give him much leeway, "I'm going to _kill_ you when I get my hands on you!"

"Ok, Ed. Let it go; I was just joking. We need to get this done because I found all the information we need to get to another city and we should utilize it quickly."

"Are you sure the tweezers are long-" Ed sighed, "Forget it. Just do it."

"Turn over; use my arm like a banister." Ed eventually rested on his stomach, "And yes, they're long reach, that's usually 12 inches. Leg first." Al removed Ed's pants and his eyes fell on the bullet wound on the outside of his lower thigh. Emilien mildly gagged as Luminista became entranced by the fierce wound oozing blood. Upon further inspection, Al announced, "Shit, Ed, that's a hollow point bullet. No wonder it's still bleeding. But at least it's on the cut edge of the adductor longus so I won't have to go in very far and I can grip it by the rim. I guess your muscle was firm enough to-"

"That's great, Al," Ed breathed through his nose, "just pull it out."

Al propped his hand on the back of Ed's left calf to keep him from moving- targeting the tweezers at the bullet- when the artificial skin on the automail ruptured under the pressure. Once the skin tore off, the gleam of Ed's automail instantly magnetized the two Roma's eyes. Luminista probed, "What is… That wasn't real skin… What is…"

Ed spoke angrily, "Just rip it off."

Al tried to examine his brother's face but Ed turned his head the other way. Al sighed and started shredding the counterfeit skin, revealing the intricate metal Winry had designed. Ed's hair hid his face and Al looked down at the automail. Ed's voice broke the silence, "Take the bullet out of my leg, Brother, before I bleed to death."

Al retook his position and prodded the broken bleeding wound, "On three, Ed." Ed slightly gripped the coat beneath him, "One. Two. Three." Al thrust the sharp pointed tweezers into Ed's thigh, digging to latch onto the bullet. Ed breathed out through his nose and a groan stuck in the back of his throat. Emilien looked away, about to puke, but Luminista surveyed Al's movements and her mind blanked because Ed didn't really make a sound. She saw his jaw lock, but that was the only trace of pain she noticed. Al readjusted the tweezers, twisting them in Ed's leg, and he told Luminista, who was closest to unravel and rip a large amount of gauze. Luminista used her teeth to rip the gauze- while Ed mumbled 'How hygienic'- and passed it to Al. Al started frantically dabbing around the gushing wound. "Emilien, can you help me hold down-"

Luminista declared, "Al, I don't think Emilien can help you hold down the gauze. Or do anything!"

Al looked away from Ed's leg, "Why?" Luminista pointed to Emilien in the corner, gripping his graying hair and dry heaving, "Ok, can you do it?"

Luminista grasped the antiseptic and gauze as she quickly got on her knees and laid the items on the unoccupied space on the coat. Her palms and extended fingers held down the gauze that was wrapped close to the opening as Al twisting the tweezers again, "I'm sorry, Ed." The blood soaked the bounteous gauze by the time Al finally got a firm hold on the bullet. "On the count of-"

"Just pull it out!" Ed erupted

Al's elbow jerked straight up and the soiled bullet flew through the air, the tweezers losing grip on the gory lead, "Luminista, more gauze!" Luminista bit off a more significant amount of lined gauze and inserted it into Al's hand. Al took a look at it and handed it back, "Bunch it up! Then bite another long piece off!" Luminista folded the gauze into layers as swiftly as she could and gave it back to Al. Al pressed it onto Ed's wound and wrapped the second strip of gauze all the way around Ed's leg, holding the layered, squared gauze in place over the wound.

"Do you need the antiseptic?" Luminista picked it up in case Al urgently needed it.

"No. I can't use it until his wounds are less raw. I didn't think about how his wounds would be too deep to use it immediately. It'll take a couple hours before I can dab it; maybe longer," Al explained. Wasting no time, Al crawled over Ed, pulling his shirt off, and straddled his lower back, "Ed, are you ok?" He just received a grunt. "Arm now," he turned to Luminista, "get ready." Al took a deep breath and firmly pushed on Ed's shoulder blade to keep him down. Not wanting to irritate Ed even further, Al moved the crimson tweezers on the middle of Ed's upper shoulder and shoved into Ed's other bullet wound. Ed gave the same reaction as the first penetration. Using the gauze in the same manner as with his leg, Al couldn't latch onto the bullet, only managing to barely graze it. But he stopped, "Ed, this bullet is in sideways and it's too deep for the tweezers to reach! I can't get it out! It's better we just leave it there!"

"No!" Ed protested, "I will not be a testament for a Nazi!"

Al barked back, "You'll have to deal with it! It'd be too hard to grip the tweezers because they'd be all the way in! I'm not pulling it out! "

Despite his jellylike body about to give out on him and his lightheaded vision, Ed bucked Al off his back. Al yelped in surprise and fell next to Ed on the dirt-covered floor. Ed found the tweezers over his shoulder with his right hand and jammed them into his shoulder until the tweezers barely poked out of his skin. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, "It's already in deep enough. Pull it out."

Al scrambled to his knees and lowered Ed back onto his stomach, "What are you doing, Ed? " Al bit an abundant amount of gauze, the roll nearly out, and pressed it around the wound. Muttering 'oh no, oh no, oh God, oh shit, oh no', Al, contradictory to what Ed demanded, tried to remove the tweezers, the only way to do that was to clutch the legs together and get a good grip. Al quickly deduced that he was going to have to insert his thumb and index fingers into Ed's skin. He cringed but grabbed another piece of gauze as he heard a faint question from Luminista. Al pulled the piece of gauze in two and placed them on the tips and sides of his thumb and index. Al took a deep breath and plunged his fingers into Ed's wound. His fingers pushed the gauze in first, soaking up the blood on the surface of the tweezers and the part wrapped on the top absorbed the overflowing blood for only enough time for Al to grip the tweezers. Against his better judgment, Al pulled the tweezers to the side- his finger's still in his brother's open wound- and latched onto the rim of the bullet. He had to use shear brute force to yank the sideways bullet out, blood instantly rushed like the ocean, and pulled the gauze out. Ed gasped, making an 'ah' sound, and held onto the coat for dear life. "Luminista-"

"On it," she folded the remains of the gauze, and pressed it on Ed's wound herself.

Al fell to the side, noticing Emilien still turned in the corner, and angrily regarded his brother, "Ed, what possessed you to do that?"

Ed never answered Al's question, "Bring me the maps."

"I don't _think_ so, Ed."

"Now, Alphonse," Ed tried to push off the ground only to collapse. Though his eyes were rolling back into his head sporadically, Ed repeated, "Bring me the maps."

"I will blueprint a route we can follow to get to France. Just trust me, Brother!"

Ed scoffed sarcastically, "Oh, yeah, just like you trusted me, right?"

Al's face down casted, "I'm sorry-"

"We should have been in France _months_ ago," Ed choked out, his breathing becoming erratic.

Luminista could see Al's bloody hands shake, "So you're blaming me for us staying here and you getting shot."

Al started to get up, but Ed's head turned to him and he clutched his pants, "No, of course not, Al. If I recall correctly, you weren't the one with a gun in your hand." Ed's eyes rolled back again, "I just want you to have faith in me."

"I do, Ed, and this…" Ed's hand slid from Al's pants as his eyes rolled like a stone, passing out, breaths evenly absconding from his lips.

Al stood up, touching Emilien's shoulder. Emilien jumped and commented, "That was the nastiest thing I've ever seen."

Al forced the corners of his lips up, "I think you would have had a heart attack if you'd been there when Ed lost his arm and leg. Besides," Al leaned against the wall next to the window, "I believe you saw a man's brains today."

Emilien claimed, "But that was a no choice situation, and I only looked for about two seconds. And I certainly didn't see things being pulled out of him."

"But you did see more blood, which was unnecessary. Why'd you shoot the other Nazi?"

"It was a no choice situation. He would have identified us. And with your guys' unique eye color, it's pretty obvious."

Al sighed, "I guess that's true."

Emilien sat on the floor and looked at the unconscious blonde, "I don't know how he barely made a noise."

"He doesn't usually make noise when he's in pain. He has tough skin so to speak."

Luminista took to her feet from beside Ed, "So let's start out with what's the metal?"

When Al kneeled to Ed, he tore away the fake skin until a considerable volume of Ed's silver automail was exposed, "This is automail. The lower part of his left leg is automail and," Al shredded the cloak of Ed's scared shoulder and ports, "this is why he always wears long sleeves and gloves. The automail is highly developed prosthetics that connect to the nerves and replaces what he lost."

Luminista's brows creased, "How did he lose his leg and arm?"

Al shook his head, "It doesn't matter."

"What do you mean?"

Al to Ed and took a moment to answer, "We tried something that…isn't meant for humans to achieve."

"Why?" Luminista leaned against the wall behind her.

Al looked at his hands, "Because we were young and desperate."

Luminista slid down the wall and pulled her knees to her chest, "Well, whatever it was, if you guys risked arms and legs and who knows what else, it must have been for something important…"

Al slowly replied, "The most important thing in the world to us."

"Do you regret it?" Emilien inquired.

"In a way. I regret what happened to Ed and he regrets what happened to me-"

Emilien interjected, "Wait, what happened to you?"

"It doesn't matter," Al deflected. "But he regretted what happened to me and we suffered horrible consequences." Al smiled, "But there's always a bright side. We did a lot of good as a result and we met a lot of great people. Even if we miss them like mad, we know they're watching out for one another."

"Well, all the good times come with the bad," Luminista smiled, "but it looks like it made you two strong, nice brothers." Luminista shook a pointed finger, "Two _very_ _close_ brothers."

"Yeah, and I bet you two's family really misses you," Emilien remarked.

Al looked to the window, only to notice with a boring, worn brick wall, cracks branching in every direction imaginable on the other side. Al's attention was then drawn to the black lining of grime that ate at the window frame. "Not as much as we miss them."

"Sorry, Al. We're probably opening old wounds, aren't we?" Luminista straightened her legs.

"Yes, but I don't mind."

"Final question," Luminista stood up and pressured the gauze on Ed's back, noticing it was falling off. "Who's Winry?" Al quirked an eyebrow. "Well, you said her name and Ed reacted."

Al twisted around and sat with his feet in the direction of Ed's head. He turned his head and looked to the window again, "She performed the surgery to install Ed's automail. She made the ports, which is what his arm and leg are connected to, and she had to pull his nerves through them. Then she connects the nerves to the automail and bolted the automail in the ports. She also is the one who made the automail. She's been Ed's mechanic ever since. Her workmanship was considered some of the best in our country." _And I wish she was able to readjust his automail; he grew taller. Our improvising sucks_. Al ran a hand through his bangs, "To add to that, Ed and she are in love and they're meant to be together. But the obstacles are quite obvious."

Emilien laughed, "So Ed's into older women!"

Al blinked, "Wha?"

"Well you said she performed that crazy surgery and made his automail, and that she's a famous mechanic," Emilien scratched his head. "Sooo…I just assumed she was a lot older than him."

Now it was Al's turn to laugh, "No! She's the same age as Ed!"

Luminista questioned, "So she was that talented as a teenager?"

Al continued laughing, "No, no! She was only ten when she performed the surgery! Ed lost his leg and arm when he was ten!"

Luminista and Emilien nearly yelled, "What?"

"Yeah!" Al swallowed his laughter as best he could, "She was a prodigy, just like Ed. People always thought they were older when they heard about them. And that Ed was taller. When Colon- when he was recruited to be a state alchemist to work for the military, everybody thought he was like 36 or something. Then they saw him and he was a 12 year old kid- an extremely short 12 year old kid." Al looked at Ed with a smile, "He was the youngest state alchemist in history."

Luminista leaned forward, "Wow, so what about you? Were you an alchemist?"

Al nodded, "Yeah and we were pretty skilled in martial arts."

Luminista tapped her chin, "So that would have made you 11. Did everybody freak when they saw you do alchemy too?"

"No. None of them were surprised. Of course, I was…a bit tall for my age."

Luminista pondered, "I've never seen martial arts performed like yours."

"That wasn't really martial arts. Ed and I decided street fighting was more effective."

Luminista let off of Ed's gauze and Emilien stood up, "Well, I'm not going to lie, Al, this is all kind of hard to believe. But even if it isn't true, that was information overload. I'm going to go outside and lay down…and try…not to vomit while I think about you sticking your fingers in Ed's wound." Emilien shuddered and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Ed looked at Luminista, "Do you think I'm making this up?"

Luminista smirked, "After just seeing him run about four miles and you two talking about these things like memories and," Luminista moved behind Al to lean on her knees to look at Ed's automail leg, "that Ed has fully functioning metal limbs, how can I?" Luminista's head sunk into the middle of Al's shoulder blades, her arms twined around his waist, clinging like ivy, "And I don't think you're a liar."

Al looked at her hands and laid one of his on them, "By the way, remind me to tell Emilien not to mention anything I just told you about Ed and our past, especially not Winry."

"Why?"

"Because Ed doesn't want anybody to know about his automail, and all that information pertains to it. Oh, and mentioning Winry, you want to know why Ed won't let Noah get near him and how he was paranoid about her staring?" Al looked out the window again, "I told her who Winry was and she tried to take advantage of it and it pissed Ed off to the point that he slammed his fist on one of the carts and yelled at her. It's a sensitive subject for him. _Just like the short_ comment. He'll tackle me if either of you tell him I mentioned his height."

"No problem," Luminista laughed, "no matter how much I want to see Ed tackle you."

_Rush Valley, Amestris, September 28, 1941_

Winry shot up from her slumber in her bed on the second floor of her shop, which she had remodeled as an apartment, and walked to Emile's crib. Carefully picking him up, trying not to wake him, she cradled him in her arms and sat on the edge of her bed. She traced one of her fingers over his brow bone.

"I had a dream, Emile. I dreamt about your daddy and uncle," her frown deepened. "They were fighting and they got hurt, like they always have. But they got hurt and your daddy died." A couple tears broke through her eyes as she cupped her 3 month old son's cheek. "It was so…real. But I guess it was just a dream, wasn't it, Angel Bird?" She stared at the wrench and screws on her floor that was covered in scratches from when the metal would scrape across the room. "They aren't exactly the vulnerable type, you know. I wish you could have known them. They were perfect."

Winry stood up only to lie down and rest her head against the oak headboard. She drew Emile's little body onto her stomach and chest and wrapped her arm under his bottom to keep him in place. She took his tiny fist in her free hand, "I can't stand this, Emile. I'll never know if he's ok or eating or sleeping or taking care of Al- well not that last one. I _know_ he's taking care of Al. And I _know_ Al's trying to keep him out of trouble." She sighed, "I'll never know if he forgives me…" Winry shook her head, "No, I _know_ he does. It's like Riza said, isn't it, Emile? We love each other and that stupid fight won't change that."

Winry tucked her arm in until Emile's head was below her clavicle, "I guess I've just got a gut reaction that something…horrible is going to happen, Emile. That dream…" Winry lifted her hand to her over her eyes, "…something's going to happen to Ed. I think Al's going to be trying to protect him or stop him or something but Ed's not going to listen." Winry scoffed, "Wouldn't be the first time, huh?" Her hand fell and she stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. "Oh, God, I've got the worst feeling." More tears trailed down her face, "Something horrifying is going to happen to Ed. Oh, Angel Bird, something's gonna happen to your daddy." A fountain of tears began flowing, "Please, please, don't let anything happen to him. Please, please, please."

Winry jumped up and gently laid Emile back in his crib. She picked up the phone, tugging the chord to its full extent, to sit as far down the hallway as she could. The door was barely cracked as Winry sat against the wall, cross-legged, dialing Riza's new number. She waited patiently and after a few rings, Riza answered with a dazed voice, "Which bar are you at, sir?"

"This isn't the General, it's Winry," Winry twisted the chord around her finger.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Winry. Force of habit. I know he's not calling anymore. What's wrong?" Riza yawned.

"Something horrible's going to happen to Ed, Riza," Winry's voice broke.

Riza sounded more alert, "No it's not, Winry. When Ed and Al are together, they're a red-blooded force that's not to be reckoned with."

"But that's what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid they're going to get separated. And I'm about to vomit because I feel like something horrible is going to happen to Ed."

"What brought all this on, Winry?" Riza asked concernedly.

"A dream. I had a dream they were running and they got hurt but Ed died."

"Winry, don't cry. Ed is fine. Nothing's going to happen to him. Al and Ed will chain themselves together if they even _think_ they're going to get separated."

Winry sobbed, "No, Riza. Something bad's going to happen to Ed. I just know it; I just feel it in my bones."

"Winry-"

"And a few months ago, I had a dream that Ed and Al were running and Ed fell but he got right back up and caught up to Al. And I calmed myself down. But now I'm sure."

"Winry-"

"Because it's not a reoccurring dream or the outcome would have been the same," Winry's voice cracked again, "But this time…this time when he fell, Ed fell and told Al to keep running and someone stood over Ed, with a gun, and shot him in the head!"

"Winry, stop," Riza whispered.

"What if something horrible already happened to him, Riza?" Winry covered her eyes with her hand again, "What if he's dead? Please, please, please don't let him be dead."

"No, Winry, Ed is _fine_. You're just so upset he's not here that you're worrying yourself sick."

"I just can't _handle_ not knowing if Al and Ed are ok. I'm about to lose my mind."

"Thus proving my point. I know you miss them, but you're getting too worked up for something that isn't happening or going to happen."

"But we don't _know_ that. I know this sounds horrible, but when I look at Emile, I just want to curl up and sob. He reminds me of what I've lost and…I'm an awful mother."

Riza spoke louder, "Stop that now, Winry. You are not an awful mother. We're human, Winry. We are sentimental and we can only bottle up so much pain until the cap pops off and streams into everything around us, into every aspect of our lives."

Winry laughed through her tears, "Why do you always have inspirational wisdom? I thought you said we were human, not books of poetry."

"Do you feel better now?"

"No. I'm tellin' you Riza, something ungodly is going to happen to Ed. Something horrifying or fatal. I just know it."

"Do you need me to come there?" Riza offered.

Winry sniffled, "No it's in the middle of the night. Besides, you're kind of in hiding. I'm glad you gave me this number, but why can't you tell me why you left. It's the General isn't it?"

"No, it's not. It's just something I need to do. I just want to step back and take a look at my life and my priorities. Anyway, you have a baby and work. So sleep. Ed is fine and that dream is all the sadness and worry coming to a head."

"Thank you, Riza. I'm sorry I woke you up over a dream," Winry stood up with the phone.

"I was only dozing," Riza distractedly said. "Roy made me start a habit of not being able to sleep at night. For a while, I didn't even put on sleeping clothes anymore because I knew I'd just have to go out later."

"I thought Fürher Grumman had told him he had to clean up if he wanted the promotion to General," Winry lingered outside the door, a few wild tears running down her face, and sniffled.

Riza scoffed, "For all Fürher Grumman knew, he did. He even cut down to only nights in his house for a while. But he went right back to where he was. I threatened to tell the Fürher if he didn't stop but he called my bluff and said that I would never ruin his political career. I didn't know what to do."

"You should've stopped picking him up."

"That's easy to say, but that's hard to do," Riza sighed. "That last night I was there, Roy called me at 3:39 in the morning and he was in the red light district again at the _same phone booth_ from last time he was there. So when I got there-"

"He was lying on the street again."

"No. He was passed out in the phone booth. There was even somebody in front of the booth with him at their feet, talking on the phone. I wasn't surprised or anything, but then I saw this big red smear on the glass behind his head. Well, I freaked out and basically beat down the guy on the phone and he left. Roy was passed out and the whole left side of his neck and the shoulder of his shirt were _soaked_ with blood." Riza sighed, "I didn't know what happened, all I could figure out was whatever happened, happened after he hung up. So I just took him to my house because it was half the distance to his house from Delmare and wiped the blood off his neck." Riza sounded angry when she explained, "So I had to take off his fucking shirt and use the comforter on my bed to lie on the couch because he was filthy and I had to use my sheet to cover him up with."

There was a long pause, so Winry, who was still mildly crying, asked, "So did you find out what happened?"

"Yes. I left him in my house and went to command so when he came in, I cornered him in his office and punched him in the shoulder and demanded to know what happened. Apparently he decided to sleep in the phone booth and someone hit him in the head with something, but he doesn't know who, and he doesn't know why." Riza's angry tone returned, "One day, somebody who's not a fan is going to see him or recognize him and he's going to get killed."

"I'm afraid to say that's a possibility." Winry wiped her tears, "But what would you do if that happened?"

"Remember, Ed and Al are ok. Goodnight, mama."

Riza hung up.


	6. Sick and Tired

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do not own the manga/anime characters, plots, or creation.

**Bless My Body, Bless My Soul**

**By TheKennethAnger**

Chapter 6: Sick and Tired

**Non est ad astra mollis e terris via**** - ****There is no easy way from the earth to the stars. (Seneca)**

_Heidenheim an der Brenz, Germany, December 4, 1941_

"Not a single motherfuckin' stroke of damn luck," Ed rubbed his face. "Everywhere we shoot for, they're in our faces. We can't find a fucking way around them."

Al treaded behind his brother, "We just have to forge on, Ed."

Ed redirected their route, "We've been trying for months, Al. And we've lost a third of the group. If only we'd been more vigilant…We got to Landshut, then we got to Mainburg. But when we went on to Kurlshuld, we had to turn around and go halfway back to Mainburg." Ed sighed, "It just seems like we may not get to Stuttgart."

Al wiped the sleep out of his eyes and commanded, "Ed, don't think that; and don't think about the Roma taken into custody. I'm upset about it too, but we can't rewind the clock. So switch mind frames right now. Think about it, we've finally made it to Heidenheim an der Brenz despite everything that's happened to get us to this point. We're only about half an hour from the train station. Then we'll have to switch trains in Hohenstadt and it will only be about forty-five minutes to Stuttgart. Remember the route we revised and revised after you woke up? Once we get to Stuttgart, we'll catch a train to Baden-Baden. It'll be a little under an hour. And after we get to Baden-Baden, it's only about a thirty-five minute train ride to Strasbourg. That's five trains from removing ourselves from Germany. We just have to keep taking stabs."

"_Just five train stops_, Al? In theory that sounds like cherry pie, but we'll probably get held up a few more times. And these sociopaths are only getting crazier with every day that goes by. Not to mention it's been backbreaking-" he looks back to Luminista and Emilien, "-no offense, to get the Roma onto the trains. I don't know how many more times we can get away with it. I mean, we sneak them into the baggage car in the middle of drop off and they have to jump out when the train slows down enough and run away. It's getting too risky, Al, for everyone. It's taken us over ten train stops and the loss of six people."

Luminista pushed her auburn hair back and straightened her pantsuit, "I don't like it any more than you do but Al's right, Ed. We'll get there. We just have to be cool-headed. I know we've had a shit load of roadblocks, but our chance will arise and we'll get our hands on it faster than a prostitute gets her hands on a man's-"

"That's gross, Luminista!" Emilien shook his head. He mumbled, "Prostitutes are gross."

"Prostitutes aren't _gross_." Luminista objected, "I was close friends with a prostitute named Celeste in Cinque Terre in Italy. We'd sit on the beach and drink pinot noir. She started out on the street but some man beat her with a Bible so she joined one of the brothels." Emilien looked at her with a muddled face and Ed looked over his shoulder at her with question. "Of course she was a he. But a friend nonetheless. Strung jewelry like clockwork." Al laughed.

The birth of morning was pushing on the wayward individuals as the night sky had pops of sunshine peaking over the vista. The few hours of slumber brought little gratitude to their fatigued physical status. They quested through an impromptu labyrinth of the buildings until they backed into a hollow doorway as a couplet of Nazis walked by.

After they passed, Ed hissed at Al, "See what I mean? More goddamn Nazis. We can't shake them."

Al took Ed by the shoulders, "Ed, you have to turn a blind eye to it. We can't do anything about them. I know you despise hiding, but that's the only option."

Ed sighed and moved away from Al's grasp. Sticking his head around the corner, he saw half of one of the soldier's body as he proudly stood towards the other direction. Ed turned and put his finger over his mouth, signaling for silence. The Elric brothers and Roma crept from the back of the building to the neighboring building and trailed another maze through the unpopulated alleys and climbed over the occasional wooden fence.

Al glanced at Ed, "When we're in France, we have to brandish a way home, Ed. I don't like admitting that you've been right and I have been mistaken, but this world is ill-fated. We have to get back home, no matter what."

Ed marched without looking at his sibling, "I may be greedy, but I'm hungry for her; I can't let her go, Al. I have to see her at least one more time; hug her one last time. I won't be able to disburden myself if things are left the way with what happened. I'll be laid to waste."

"I know, Ed…" Al lamented. "We should be about fifteen minutes away from the train station," Al clarified.

Ed threw over his shoulder, "You guys get ready to hop that train."

_Central, Amestris, December 18, 1941_

"It's a good thing automail requires physical activity. I'm finally losing this baby weight!" Winry laughed.

Rebecca laughed and shook her head, "You didn't gain all that much weight, Winry. You've lost weight with every week since his birth. It's because you were in shape before you had him."

"That is a psych up; I'm just self-conscious because I'm not back to weight I used to be," Winry bashfully turned her head, "I just keep thinking that if Ed came back he would think I'm fat."

"Are you kidding?" Rebecca laughed with Breda mumbling 'That's a joke', "Aside from the fact that you're not fat _by any _means, he'd love you and think you're beautiful if you were the weight of a silverback mountain gorilla. Ed would never give a damn about how much you weigh. Now off this subject before _I_ start feeling fat, glad you could make it, Winry. I know you have a hell of a lot of business you've been catching up on," Rebecca smiled.

"Yeah, I've never seen someone work as laboriously as you…omitting maybe Riza…" Breda tapped his chin.

"I definitely needed that lunch break. These people are running me ragged. I think Izumi is about to throw Emile at me and run away. She's probably so sick of watching him. But she hasn't said anything," Winry readjusted her scarf as they headed back to command. "Not to mention when I do get free time people keep calling and calling and making my head spin!" _And by people, I mean _Riza.

"At least people are calling you. Ever since Riza left, barely anyone calls me," Rebecca coughed, causing a billow of flatus.

"_Havoc_ does," Breda appealed.

"Yeah, well, that's more calls than what you get, _Breda_," Rebecca narrowed her eyes.

"Ah, I hate people," Breda shrugged. Winry and Rebecca snickered.

All three felt relief in their chests when they got out of the windy, cold weather. They started walking towards the closest elevator.

"I miss Riza," Rebecca softly admitted.

"Don't get me wrong, I do miss her, but I particularly miss her because she's the only person Mustang feared or listened to. He's been acting like a cracked nut. Totally bananas, bonkers, bats, off his rocker, lost his marbles-"

Winry mentally scoffed, _Him and Riza should go to crazy camp together. Maybe they'll stop fighting and _driving **me** crazy_!_

"-mental, off the deep end, berserk, losing it, daffy, cuckoo-"

"We get it, Breda," Rebecca laughed.

"He's seriously freaking everybody out. And he prods Fürher Grumman every two hours to tell him where Riza went."

Winry tapped her chin, "Oh yeah? What exactly has he been doing that's freaking everybody out?"

"Example: this past Tuesday, Fuery and I opened the door to his office and he was lying on the floor next to his desk with the all the lights out, he had taken off his shoes, and an empty white wine bottle was on the desk and a fifth of rum and a picture of Riza beside his head, and he just staring at the ceiling. So we were like 'shit' and I set him back in his chair and Fuery got rid of the alcohol- you know, something Mustang's not supposed to have- and we just didn't know what else to do. We still don't," Breda sighed, "but he's going to kill himself if he keeps going like this. I think the only thing that will get through to the bastard is Riza."

"But I'm not sure if she'll be back anytime soon. I mean, she has been gone since the first day of July. And Grumman so perceptibly gave her the green light because nobody's taken her office. Not to mention she left Grumman's office on Friday and by Monday she was gone. He knew she was leaving and everybody knows that he knew," Rebecca explained.

"Yeah, so it's been almost six months ago and Mustang hadn't spent more than a couple days without her for who knows how many freakin' years. So he's pulling his hair out. Which in turn is pulling everybody else's hair out. I'm so sick of their shit." Breda rubbed his temples. "And then what's _really_ annoying is not a _single_ person knows what happened between them."

Rebecca disclosed, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad Armstrong is here."

"Why?" Winry stepped through the silver doors onto the elevator with Rebecca and Breda.

"Not Major Armstrong, she means General Armstrong," Breda crossed his arms.

Winry blinked, "Why is she here?"

"Because of…a…um…um…" Breda's eyes shifted around as the trio stepped off with the ding of the elevator. "Come on; let's go in Riza's office."

They walked to the end of the drone hallway and stopped at Riza's office door. Winry scratched her head, "Isn't it locked?"

Rebecca grinned, "Sure is." Rebecca pulled a couple bobby pins from her brunette hair and inserted them into the lock. Fishing around for a minute, the golden doorknob clicked and the door eased open. Rebecca regarded to Winry, "It's my favorite pastime."

Breda turned his head towards Winry and pointed at Rebecca, "It's for when Havoc forgets to leave the key under the mat."

Rebecca thrust her elbow into his stomach, "Shut up with this Havoc shit! I'm gettin' sick of everybody thinking we're hooking up or something!"

Breda spoke out of breath while holding his stomach, "Please, Rebecca, you're totally in love with him and he _never_ shuts up about _Rebecca_ this and _Rebecca _that."

"I'm ignoring you, this is becoming ludicrous," Rebecca huffed.

Once the triad moved into the deafening silence of the deserted office, Breda closed the door and quietly abided, "There's a growing dispute happening between the countries. The new generals have come into Central, left their posts to their men and colonels, to discuss a method of calming the waters. But they're also designing strategies in case it comes to an all-out war. Fürher Grumman used Mustang and Armstrong as a source to discuss if the new generals were trustworthy and prepared to hold up in a war. They reached the conclusion that the new generals could handle it if they were given specific orders and guidelines. So from the South is Eden Mamba, the West is Abraham Sedgwick, and the East is Thomas Wolf."

Rebecca cut in, "You see, an escalating mistrust, and it seems an impending war, has come to fruition. Creta apparently took out two platoons of Amestrian soldiers and killed 24 at the Southwest border, so the Amestrian soldiers retaliated. Sorry excuse to start a war, but they've been waiting on it."

Breda took over the conversation again, "So the generals and Fürher are trying to squash arising tensions. Particularly after Intelligence says that Creta, Drachma, and Aerugo have made an alliance to overthrow Amestris. It's also been found that new alchemists, approximately twelve, have been in training. Shit's incogitable right now."

"This is awful. If there really is in an alliance, what can we do to counter it?" Winry hugged herself.

Breda looked at the wall, "Send the State Alchemists back on the field and prepare our soldiers to ship out. There'd be no other choice."

Rebecca brooded, "Yes, and that's why I'm surprised Riza hasn't come back. Because I bet Grumman is communicating with her and has informed her. So if this shit goes down, she won't be here and that means she's leaving Roy in the outlands. It just seems off."

"Speaking of which, how does General Armstrong play a part in the Roy/Riza debacle?" Winry glanced between Breda and Rebecca.

Rebecca bit her lip as Breda leaned on Riza's desk to answer, "Armstrong kind of attacked Mustang. And by kind of, I mean, she attacked Mustang. The Fürher is totally aware that he's drinking again and you could visibly tell he had a wicked hangover. So the Fürher purposely asked solely Mustang for ploys and he just kind of mumbled that he didn't have any. Armstrong had already looked pissed when she saw him before the meeting so after he said that, she basically leapt over the consultation table, in front of the Fürher and all the generals and subordinates, and grabbed him by the coat and bashed him face up into the wall-which broke his collar bone by the way- and called him weak and told him he was acting insufferable and irresponsibly and he didn't have time to fall apart just because Riza left. She kept yelling at him and said that he had been key in saving Amestris when it was under Bradley and he had to help save it again."

Rebecca, sitting in Riza's chair, digressed, "She also told him he especially couldn't fall apart now that he was in a top ranking position in the military. And the Fürher didn't contradict her when she told Mustang that if he couldn't get his head out of the clouds he was going to get replaced by someone that gives a damn. Let's face it: Olivier's right."

_You two really fucked each other over, didn't you?_ Outwardly, Winry kept her mouth shut about the situation with Roy and Riza, "The world's really lost control, hasn't it?" Winry opened the door, "Well, I'm going to go get my stuff at Gracia's and head to Rush Valley. I need to get back home so Izumi can bring Emile back and she can have a nice, long vacation. I'll see you two."

Once Winry got outside and the frigid breeze brushed her face, she looked to the sky, "Al, Ed, please come back. Everyone needs you."

Winry slept on the train ride, though the seats were uncomfortable, dreading the all-nighters she was going to have to endure when she returned. However, when she stepped into her shop, her engine revved with appreciation that she could still do what she loved; something she had to put the chill on for a little over nine months.

After Izumi put Emile to bed, she came downstairs and saw Winry pulling out her tools, "You have an all-nighter, don't you?"

Winry considered Izumi with a smile, "Yeah, but I'll be ok."

Izumi made up an excuse to stay with the baby of which she had become attached, "It's a bit late to get back to Dublith. I can stay here so you can sleep tomorrow without worrying about Emile."

The night slipped by and an hour before sunrise Winry held up her latest invention, "Hot damn, I haven't lost my touch," Winry put the automail down and made strong coffee to finish up her invention since it would take a couple more hours.

By the time Winry finished the automail, Izumi sat on the living room floor with Emile. She pushed her bandana back and sat next to her son and Izumi. "Thanks for staying with me, Izumi, that all-nighter was a must."

"I enjoy watching him. I love children and he's a particularly happy one," Izumi's smile faltered a bit when she looked down at Emile, "It's apparent that he is of Xerxes lineage, isn't it? He has Ed's eyes."

"Yeah, he does." Winry laughed, "I wonder how Ed would act with Emile."

Izumi smirked, "He'd be so paranoid Emile was going to get hurt he wouldn't let him out of his sight for a split second."

"Probably. You know how kids fall down once in a while when they're learning to walk? Ed would have a stroke if he fell and would declare he's not allowed to walk anymore. I can just hear him," Winry mocked in a deep voice, "'No more walking! He's going to meet a brick wall head-on! He'll have cerebral hemorrhaging! Is that what you want, Winry? For our son to have cerebral hemorrhaging? He doesn't need to walk yet! No more walking, dammit!'" Winry drug Emile to sit facing Izumi in her lap. "Al wouldn't be like that. Al would play with him all the time, which would also give Ed a stroke, and would be telling him to ask Ed if he used to be short. Both of them would take care of Emile, they'd both love him. It would be a beautiful day if Ed and Al ever come back."

"I'm glad you're starting to look at the positive, Winry," Izumi touched her shoulder.

Winry looked down at Emile, "I am, but I've still got a terrible feeling about Ed."

Izumi sulked, "The dreams haven't ceased yet?"

"It's like the last time. I had a dream months before but there was a different ending. I had another one a couple nights ago for the first time in months. It was a continuation. Ed got shot like the last time, but this time…" Winry closed her eyes and took a deep breath then released it, "This time…they shot him and started to…to saw through his stomach with a... They were cutting him up."

"Riza was right, Winry. You are worrying yourself sick and I think the anxiety about the last dream fuelled this new dream."

Winry massaged the top of her baby's head, "Regardless, I have a horrible prophecy. But you two are probably right. I'm going kind of crazy, aren't I?"

"You're always welcome to talk to me if it gets to be too much," Izumi comforted.

"Well, there's one thing that's too much," Winry smile, "my tasks at hand. My customers are rushing to get repairs and updates. I'm going to have to sleep for a couple hours and pull another all-nighter. So…"

"Of course I'll stay another night," Izumi smiled.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Izumi rocked Emile in her arms in the upstairs of Winry's business while Winry relentlessly slaved over the automail arm she had due the next morning downstairs. However, at about eleven o'clock that night, the phone rang, making Winry jump from her stool to run for the phone as to not awake Emile. Unfortunately, her foot caught the bottom of the table and she took a header on the floor, "Fuck you, floor! So much for not waking up the baby." She quickly recovered and got to the phone. "This is Winry and unless you have something important to say, I'll hang up and you can question why your something isn't important enough."

"When did you start answering the phone like that?"

"It's better than saying 'This is Rush Valley Funeral Home, how may we bury you?', isn't it now?"

"Somebody's grumpy."

"I've basically been up for three days. Spare me."

"No can do."

"When the fuck are you coming home?"

Riza sighed, "Not for a while."

"You people are driving me crazy! All of you!"

"Sorry?"

"The military isn't going to keep your position forever, woman."

"Grumman guaranteed it would until I decree if I want to resign or not."

"You're lucky you're related to him or this would never fly."

"Nevertheless, I am on an approved indefinite hiatus."

Winry sighed, "I can't believe you're washing your hands clean of your vow."

"It was almost a bang up job and that's all I can bring myself to care about anymore. Since he seems to have gotten his act together as far as Grumman is aware, he's a general now; he's ordained as the next fürher. As far as I'm concerned, I got him far enough. So yes; I am washing my hands clean of my promise. He'll have plenty of security and soldiers at his disposal."

Winry tinkered with a screwdriver next to the phone as she decided to inform Riza of what she had learned, "Roy's painting the town red, Riza. And the Fürher confirmed his awareness of the drinking. And I mean _unmanageable_ drinking. And something is happening between Amestris and its surrounding countries so all the generals are in Central and when Roy came into a consultation with a hangover, Olivier Armstrong broke his collar bone and said he couldn't come apart at the seams because you were gone. Then, according to Breda, he's acting more or less psychopathic."

Riza took a few moments to quietly reply, "What's he doing? Is he ok?"

"By no means. At least, not from what Breda told me. Fuery and he apparently walked in his office and all the lights were off, he was in the dark, and he had his shoes off and an empty bottle of wine on his desk and he was lying on the floor with a fifth of rum beside his head. So they picked him up and tossed the alcohol."

"How long ago did that happen?"

"Three days ago."

"So he's just getting worse."

In hopes of bringing Riza home, Winry revealed, "He also had a picture of you beside him."

"…why?"

"Let me check my telepathy," Winry sarcastically responded. However, her mockery quickly deteriorated. "I'll just roll the dice and say it's because he's down and out and devastated that you're gone." Winry sighed, "But I'm telling you, Riza, he's on the verge of dying. He's going to drink himself to death. I asked you before but you wouldn't answer me. So I'll ask again: what would you do if Roy Mustang died?"

Riza sounded like she was biting back grief but didn't miss a beat when she self-confessed, "I'll follow him into fire and brimstone. I will relinquish life to be with him."

"Riza," Winry's heart broke, "you need to come back and let him know that."

A tinge of anger mixed in Riza's voice, "He already knows that. He damn well knows that."

"Riza-"

"He butchered my heart and devoured it. And you expect me to come home to take care of him? No, no; I don't think so. He made me suffer and now it's his turn."

"Let me get this straight, you're doing this for payback? Riza…that's beyond cruel. You're just cutting off your nose to spite your face."

"I don't care."

"Did he really do something that is deserving of this? Whatever he did, he has to be sorry or he wouldn't be destroying his whole life for it."

Riza curled up on her bed, wiped the lonely tear from her eyes, and waited before answering, "I already _told you_, I gave him my soul and what do I get in return?" Riza's voice strained, "I get his in cold blood aggression."

An earthquake of collision and rage smashed into Winry. The pieces of the puzzle were coming together like thunder after the lightening. Winry's heart rate sped up exponentially, "You lied to me." Riza remained quiet. "When you said Roy Mustang would never hurt you, you lied to me. When did he let his aggression out on you? Tell me this instant, Riza!"

"Don't think I'm powerless, Winry. Roy reaped what he sown."

Winry took a deep breath to calm down, reminding herself that Riza was indeed capable of giving what she got, "What happened?"

"He broke my heart."

Winry decided to go out on limb that could have caused Riza to hang up, "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"No."

"I call bullshit."

"I could never explain our relationship to someone so I won't even try. But I am not in love with Roy."

"Riza you can tell me."

"I just did. Roy means more to me than…I would die for Roy, but I am not in love with him."

"You're just confusing the hell out of me now."

"That's my point. Nobody can grasp our relationship. I don't think I can grasp it myself anymore."

"So I've been right this whole time; you left because of him."

"No you aren't right, Winry. When you had Emile, it came to my attention that I'm twenty-seven years old. I'm fucking _twenty-seven_ and believe it or not I want a family and I know I will never have one if I don't build a life outside of the military, outside of Central."

"You mean outside of Roy Mustang."

"I don't want to talk about that bastard anymore! I dedicated my life to him and this is how he reciprocates? I fuckin' _hope_ he dies!"

"Riza! Don't say-"

"I'll come home when it's time to bury him six feet under, when he's pushing up goddamn daises, so I can fuckin' _dance_ on his grave every Sunday! _Please_ tell him this is all his fault and I'll never forgive him and I can't wait 'til he goes to hell!"

Riza slammed the phone onto the receiver. Then she sobbed into her comforter and squeezed it as if it would expunge all her humiliation and regret. Hayate burrowed his head into her leg. "I didn't mean that, Hayate. Why did I say that? What possessed me to say that?" Riza rolled onto her back and sat up, placing her head in her hands and her elbows on her knees, "I just want him to take it all back. Instead of drinking, all he had to do was say sorry, to let me know he meant it. That he didn't feel like he was obligated, just that he didn't mean it." Riza's feet touched the floor and she went to her nightstand and pulled the lamp chord to light the room to hound out the stationary paper from the drawer and pick out a pen. She scribbled on the paper. Riza looked up and picked up her dog, "If he dies, Hayate, I'll be sure to find you both a good home before I slit my own throat."

_Hohenstadt, Germany,_ _December 28, 1941, 4:58 PM_

The side of Ed's head wilted against the frosty window and watched his breath create waning clouds on the glass. Ed felt a massive headache pricking like angry hornets in his head. He was worn-out because of the restless nights he spent trying to think of an approach to getting back home; portal open, be damned.

He had become mad as a hatter during his first stint in the demesne of Europe. Those two years had brought enough heartache and this second stint was just plumping his heart with more pain by each fleeting month. Two years he had survived because he had his father and he had the rocketry to get Winry and Al out of his mind, even though the yearning leaked like liquid fire into his dreams. He could survive with those complacencies.

The skills that powered his survival had been lost by the second sentence. He got back to his world and the walls of isolation in his controlled callousness dissolved. He saw Al in his real body and he saw Mustang and all the friends he had. He saw the place he had resided in. He saw Winry. The knowing that Al was back in his real body like he had promised brought comfort to his departure while the encounter with Winry brought him affliction. The sensuality and sacredness they shared with one another was Ed's breaking point. It had been hard enough to leave her before, but the moment he kissed her, the moment he pressed her against that wall and he wrapped her legs around his waist, the moment she told him she loved him, had been the straw that broke the camel's back. She destroyed any hope that he could rebuild the cycle he had constructed to keep himself from breaking down. He lasted two years, but the limited time with Winry ensured he couldn't last anymore.

This stretch, he had his brother but neither of them could endure the fright and homesickness that this world bestowed.

"We have to get home."

Ed turned to Al, "You reading my thoughts?"

Al looked at the back of the empty deteriorating bench opposite them as their consciously quiet conversation continued, "Ed, this is too much. I know I wanted you to be patient, but it took us twenty-four days to get on a train that we were fifteen minutes away from. And the violence is intensifying." Al looked at his older brother, "I say screw France. We need to go somewhere unpopulated and originate a rule of thumb to get to the Gate. I don't know how much more of this world I can take."

"It is egregiously horrid, Al, but it could take an extensive amount of time to discover the answer to get back to the Gate. We may never find the answer, Al. France is the sole option at this point. Then we can start conjecturing." Ed sighed, "I don't want to wait either. I don't want to keep playing Russian roulette but if that's what it takes to survive… But during the train rides, we could be theorizing what we could bargain to meet equivalent exchange. That damn fucking Gate's going to want something, the gluttonous bastard."

"I have an eerie feeling, Ed," Al's head fell into his hands like a boulder rolling down a hill. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think we should cut out on the Roma. You were right before, and your instincts about how risky this is becoming are probably right too."

Ed looked out the window at the passing land of endlessly dead, drooping trees, "What about Luminista?"

"It makes me feel like I'm indulging in favoritism."

"And you are."

"I'm being a bastard, aren't I?"

Ed shoved the side of Al's head, knocking it out of his hands, "Don't be stupid. You've never been a bastard a single day in your goody-two-shoes life. It's natural to protect the ones we love, Al."

Al's back hit the seat and slid down, pushing his legs out further, "It feels like I've known her a lifetime."

"I can tell," Ed gave a half-assed laugh. "I swear you almost fainted when she came in from England and met up with the group."

Al pouted, "I did _not_ almost faint."

"No matter what disbelievers suggest," Ed poked Al's shoulder, "there is such a thing as love at first sight."

"Stop teasing me or when we get home, I'll tell Winry you told me about the fast, chop-chop _lovin'_."

"I'd like to see you try; I'll beat you down, little brother."

"I don't see how Winry loves you so immensely; you're such a pain."

Ed crossed his arms and boyishly grumbled, "That's hitting below the belt."

"Well I retract my statement. I suppose Winry wouldn't appreciate that."

"I may be a pain but at least I'm not a libertine like you."

"You're also an idiot. The last thing you should've done is told me you slept with Winry. Aside from the fact that it's very awkward information to know, you knew I'd ridicule you."  
"Yeah, well, it was an accident," Ed griped. "There should be a cure for talking in your sleep."

"You weren't asleep," Al laughed.

"You started shaking me awake in the middle of the night! Shit just slips out when you're un-technically asleep. And it just so happened that night I was- Never mind, it's none of your fucking business," Ed snootily crossed his arms and legs.

Al put a hand over his mouth to cover his smirk, "And it just so happened that night you were dreaming about you and Winry-"

Ed slapped Al on the back of the head, "You're one sick, meddlesome brother, ya know that?"

Al sat up in his seat, "Just admit it, Ed, you can't stand that _you're_ the one that leaked the information," Al smacked the back of Ed's head.

"Don't start this again," Ed's eyes narrowed. "And you know what? When you and Luminista have sex, I'm going to tease you until you start crying."

Al blushed, "That is totally rude and unfounded!" Al slapped the back of Ed's head again.

"Oh, ho, ho, now the shoe's on the other foot, isn't it?" Ed twisted towards Al. "So here's my ultimatum: stop talking about Winry and I having sex or I'm going to start talking about you wanting to have sex with Luminista…_in front of her_. Oh and by the way-" Ed's hand met the back of Al's head.

"_Oh and by the way_," Al mocked, "you're the one who started it this time." Ed's head lurched forward when Al hit the back of his head. "And if you do that, I'll _really_ hit below the belt. Who's being sick and meddlesome now?" Ed made a humming sound to which Al contradicted, "Besides, I don't want to."

"Liar," Ed laughed.

"No, I'm not," Al turned in his seat, away from Ed. "I won't tell you why because you'll just deride me."

"Ya damn right I'll make fun of you," Ed whacked the back of Al's head. "So you might as well tell me, because it'll eventually come out, and I'll eventually taunt you."

Al turned back further from Ed, "It won't come out and I'm not going to tell you."

Ed snorted, "It's over something stupid, isn't it?"

"No! First off, I'd only do that with someone if I wanted to marry them. Not to mention it's just vexing."

Ed snickered, "That's a wide scope, isn't it? Should I start naming off things that could be embarrassing?"

"No! So shut up!"

"Note to self: Alphonse is afraid of sex, including the word."

"You're so embarrassing!"

"But not as embarrassing as-"

Al slapped the back of Ed's cranium, "You're a halfwit!"

"You're a suckling!"

At the same time, Ed and Al smacked the back of each other's heads.

After what seemed like the train was shooting to the end of the world, it began slowing. The platform came into sight. However, a sight they had not encountered before met their eyes. A long line of men in black uniforms lined the platform and down the railroad track.

"Fuck, Al! Look," Ed pulled his brother by the jacket over to the misted window.

Al's face fell in dreadfulness, "Shit. What are we going to do? We can't get to Luminista and Emilien and the others. When they jump off, they'll be seen immediately."

The train halted and the passengers began filing through the gilded sliding doors onto the stilted platform. Al and Ed looked at each other. Following the other passengers, their brains were racing with possibilities to avoid the inevitable. When their Sahara loafers trod on the platform, a relieving recognition sprang to Al and Ed's attention. These men were not Nazis. They were employees of the train station- and they were rushing the Roma into a side entrance of the spacious ticket booth while the men were masking the movement. Ed approached one of the uniformed men, "Why are you helping the Roma?"

The man took hold of the side of his jacket and held it out to cover a gun he pulled from the inner breast pocket from the rest of the passengers, "If you have an inch of consideration you may tell a goddamn Nazi, you will not get the chance. Understood?"

Ed gave a lopsided grin and held his hands up, "No problem here. We're the ones that snuck them on the train."

The man returned his gun to his breast pocket and smoothed out his jacket, "Alright then. Just keep your mouth shut. We usually hide it pretty well."

"The only reason we noticed was because we were looking for them," Al assured. "How long have you been doing this?"

The attendant whipped his head left and right to search for any clandestine listeners, "For about a year or so. We've recruited many men to stand along the tracks to distract the passengers and check the baggage for anybody, because that's where they've been hiding. So all the men on the track stonewall the passengers' view."

"What do you do with them after you hide them?" Al ventured.

"When we line the men on the tracks, we hide them in the ticket booth until the next train and basically reverse the method of getting them off to get them on. Then we sneak them into baggage, once again avoiding the passengers. Because we know there's somebody that will end up reporting us if we aren't careful enough. And anyone we suspect see them, we've been picking off."

Ed flipped the collar of his coat up as the wind picked up, "What train do you put them on?"

"We have an alliance with a train station in Stuttgart. There are two trains that lead to Stuttgart: one to the east and one to the south." The man paused as a passenger with a brown briefcase that instantly reminded Ed of his father's passed. "We're in alliance with the one in the east. They switch the Roma onto the train to Baden-Baden even though it takes about half an hour longer than if they could get to the north or west side. But that's a payable price. Unfortunately, we can't get them past that point. I say though, if they've been hopping trains for a while, one more is no problem. There's a straight shot to Strasburg. "

Al looked at Ed, "We were right. The route we planned was right, Ed."

"Where have you traveled from?" the man ushered them to follow him to the ticket booth, observing that only a couple passengers remained in the station and the rest had gone through the exit.

"A couple cities before Landshut," Ed confirmed. The man stopped and looked at them in surprise, "Yeah, we've been making sure to use the open trains instead of the enclosed ones. That way our group could open the baggage and jump out before the train stopped. Outside platforms have been our best friends."

"How the hell have you gotten that far with the Roma you've been stowing?" the man lead the Elric brothers into the ticket booth where the group of Roma sat on the blush-colored, tiled floor with cups of water in hand.

Al whispered, "We lost six of them. The Nazis got ahold of them."

The man sighed then turned to the crowd, "The next train will be here in about an hour. So relax as much as possible; you're safe here. We're going to hide you in the crowd of employees and get you into the baggage car. When you get to Stuttgart, go with the men there and they'll get you to Baden-Baden. Take the train west to Strasbourg and sneak south to the town of Galeries Lafayette and there will be more Righteous waiting to lead you to Switzerland." The man turned to Al and Ed, "You will have no danger if you two are the ones asking around for the Righteous. Act like you're asking around for the Righteous and that you are soldiers sent from Stuttgart to reprimand them. Say General Yonding Kagard sent you. That's our code. They'll know you are friends."

Luminista spoke up, "Ok, so what exactly is 'the Righteous'?"

The man sat in the chair by the side door, "Righteous Among Nations. During the year we realized what was happening, a large group of non-Jewish people came together and formed an alliance to help the Jews. Then we heard that Pope Pius of the Catholic Church directed the Church hierarchy to help protect the Jews, and that's when we were sure we had to form this alliance because that was a conformation that what we suspected was happening, was indeed happening. While we were strategizing, we realized that other people were suffering the same fate as the Jews. So we expanded our latitude of who to help and dispersed. We spread out all over the country. Then a subdivision of the Righteous along the border of France made an alliance with French citizens that wanted to help our efforts." He moved his hand towards the woman in front of the window at the ticket booth, "She too is a Righteous."

Luminista laid her hand on Al's knee as he sat beside of her, "Why can't we reside in France?"

The man sighed and scratched his eyebrow, "France is falling to Germany. It's another notch in Hitler's post. But Switzerland is a neutral country as of right now. So you should be safe. Just make sure that when you get off at Strasbourg you keep hidden and don't stop on your way to Galeries Lafayette, no matter how tired or hungry or whatever else you are."

"Where will we end up in Switzerland?" Ed sat beside Al.

"Basel."

The woman with the strawberry blond hair and brown eyes that sat in front of the window spun in her chair and warned through her thick German accent, "But for now, we wait." Ed mumbled 'we've done plenty of that' before the woman swiftly spun in her chair and hissed 'sh' over her shoulder. The group ducked down as a man's voice drifted through the silver speaker.

Once the man walked off, the woman turned back around, "You must do whatever it takes to survive. If you have to steal, steal. If you have to kill, kill. Do not let the Nazis take you. We're not completely sure what's happening to them, but our members closest to the concentration camps can only say that the smell of death is the only thing filling their nostrils. **Do not** let them take you alive, because whatever's happening there must be worse than getting shot."

"I thought you said you were helping the people escape?" Luminista's eyes furrowed.

"Once they are in the trains and in the camps…So far, the Righteous has not found one that escaped. Or if they have, the whole Righteous has not been informed," she explained.

Ed ran a hand through his bangs, "Why are you helping everybody? If the Nazis find out, they'll kill you, or they may take _you_ to the camps."

The woman and the man glanced at each other before the woman illuminated, "I'd rather take my chance on dying than to sit here and watch other people, innocent people, dying. It's not about my conscience; it's about morality, about humanity, the love for my fellow man. I will give my life for the greater good. We refuse to do nothing. Because doing nothing is doing something."

"I don't want you to think we are dehumanizing you, but we need to take you all into the very back of the station with the other Roma and," the man indicated Ed and Al, "people helping or traveling with the Roma, to wait for the train. It's better all of you hide in baggage as to not raise suspicion or allow you to get separated. Many more passengers will be buying tickets and we won't risk getting any of you captured."

When the group strode to the back, they met numerous other people who were stuffed in the room, waiting for the next train. The man professed, "As I told the rest, I am sorry it is such a tight fit, but it's the best we can do. With every amount we get on the next train, more people show up. Not all of you will fit in the baggage car on the first run because it's small and, after all, there will be baggage in the car. So stay put until we come and get you."

The man bowed back towards the front room, but Luminista grabbed his arm, "You must tell me your names. We will forever be indebted and I must remember the names of the ones that saved our lives."

The man looked over his shoulder at her, "My name is Saelac Kistler and the woman is Alice Metz. Especially don't forget all the other men and women of the Righteous Among Nations." Luminista let go and he marched to the front and stated to them without turning around, "And you owe us nothing."

The groups all mingled with one another and discussed their situation and their anxieties and anything they felt needed to be said. Emilien struck up a conversation with a Jewish man standing next to him and pulled Ed into the conversation. They bantered about their travels with the man they discovered to be named Adalard. Al stared at his brother while he spoke. _We couldn't have made it without Brother. _I_ couldn't have made it._

Ed noticed Al staring at him through his peripheral vision and rotated his head, "What are you staring at?"

"You."

"Oh, I'm glad you particularized, Al," Ed remarked sarcastically. "Seriously, Al, why are you staring at me?"

Al evaded, "We're almost there. I know it's not home, but it'll do for the time being until we can get there."

Ed sighed, "I told you, Al, we might not be able to get-"

"Yes we will," Al sternly established.

Ed offered a small smile, "Always the optimistic one. Maybe we will."

Ed turned back to his conversation and Al put his weight on his heels to lean against the wall and exhale while his back slid a few inches down the wall. Luminista tweaked his ear, "Just what are you sighing about, young man?"

"Don't call me young man," Al pinched her ear back. "You're not much older than me."

Luminista scoffed, "I'm three years older than you. Suck it, _young man_."

"I swear, between you and Ed…" Al closed his eyes and yawned. He rested his head against the wall, not bothering to open his eyes. "I guess I should be happy but I just feel like something's going to happen. This just seems like plain sailing, too simple."

Luminista frowned and enveloped Al's waste, her face settling in the crook of his neck. Letting her breath out, she muttered, "Come what may. Anyone fucks with us, we'll kick their ass." Al rubbed the side of his face and wound his hand into her stick straight auburn hair. "Alice is right; we have to do whatever it takes to survive. I think we can manage that." She quipped, "Or, you know, die trying."

"Very witty, Luminista," Al satirized.

After over an hour later, Saelac came from the front of the ticket booth, "Train's here. Get ready; in about 25 minutes half of you will be boarding it. Whoever doesn't get on, there's no need to panic; you'll catch the next one."

Once the time fleeted, the first people ushered out were the children and their parents. Afterwards, the attendants hurried the crowd to make prompt decisions on who will go next. One semi-large group avowed they would catch the next train so they would not be split up. Ed and Al's group were the only one left. They were going to have to divide.

"Al, you and Ed got us this far. There's nothing we have or could get that would repay you," Noah declared. "You two get on the train. Go on."

The rest of the Roma agreed but Ed contradicted, "No, we'll stay here and catch the next one."

Noah pushed Ed and Al towards the side door, "We've made the decision. You've made enough; it's our turn." Then she pushed Luminista, "Al needs you," then she pushed Emilien, "and you saved Al and Ed when that Nazi was shooting at them. We know the directions. So don't stop and wait on us." The rest of the group pushed them to the door even though they were protesting. "Sir," Noah said to the attendant, "these four are the last ones. You won't even have to hide two of them."

The attendants pulled Al, Ed, Luminista, and Emilien out the side door and moved them like bacteria through cilia. They were shepherded to the baggage car. Luminista hopped up then helped to pull Emilien in. Ed heaved Al through the entrance, catching him as he slipped and stumbled in. Ed pulled back.

"Ok, Ed, come on, I just heard the doors close on the passengers' cars, we have to hurry," Al grabbed Ed's wrist to tug him into the cart.

Ed stumbled back, "No, Al."

"What?" Al yelled. "Come on, Ed!" Al pulled him by the arm to the train.

"Let go, Al," he tore his wrist out of Al's grip. "You have to go." However, Al wasn't accepting that and tried to jump off the train only to have Ed shove him back, "Stay on the train, Alphonse."

"You have about thirty seconds to come to a conclusion, boys," one of the three attendants waiting to close the door informed.

"Get in here and I will!" Al tried to pull Ed in the train once again.

But Ed staggered back, "You're the one who said we should look out for our group, and that's what I'm-"

"No, you aren't! I won't let you! Get on this train _**now**_, Ed!"

"When you get to Baden-Baden, take the train to Strasbourg then get to Switzerland. Don't stop and wait on me, no matter what, Al.I'll catch the next one, then catch up to you. Just wait for me when you get to Basel."

"You're not getting separated from me!"

"Al-"

"You said you wouldn't chance losing me for them, well I won't chance losing you for them! Blood is thicker than water! _Now get on the goddamn train, Ed_!" Al gripped Ed's sleeves with both hands.

The whistle blew and the attendant cautioned, "We have to close the door _now_, boys."

Ed put his arms around Al's neck and, for the first time, wrapped his arms around Al, one hand drawing Al's head into his chest and the other encasing his neck, Al's hands still embedded in Ed's sleeves, "I love you, Brother."

Then Ed used all his strength to shove Al, whose grip on his sleeves was forced to yield, into the car where Emilien inflexibly held onto Al as the doors started to close. Tears darkened Al's vision as he fought Emilien to break away. "Let the fuck go of me, Emilien!" The last breadth of view Al saw of his older brother was his despaired aurous eyes and honeyed hair fanning in the winter gust, a sad smile adorning his face.

The doors banged shut.

Emilien closed his eyes as Al still fought him and the other people backed away, "I'm sorry, Al. He told me to. He told me to keep you on the train."

"I swear to God, I'll break down the door! Let me go." Luminista touched his shoulder but tears still raged from his radiant aurelian eyes as he relented wrestling with Emilien, who released Al's waist. The other travelers looked on with dejected, understanding eyes and hugged their children tighter. "He's my brother, goddammit."

The car began incessantly shaking and the wheels screeched along the railroad tracks and Emilien reasoned, "We're gone, Al. The trains going too fast now. We're gone."

Al pressed his face into the murky floor of the car on the opposite side of Luminista which obstructed the other passengers' view, sobbing like it was going out of style. Al bent his arms on either side of his head, hiding all but the back of his head. His back heaved as though he was asphyxiating. His sobs echoed against the metal car and his hands fisted in the gold hair that matched his brother's. The pumping organ in Luminista's chest started bleeding. She turned on her knees beside of Al and placed her hands on the back of his head and his back. She remained silent; knowing nothing she said would comfort him. After his inconsolable sobs began to ebb, he angrily pushed himself off of the flooring, accidentally knocking Luminista back, forcing her to slap her hands against a suitcase behind her to keep from hitting the rusting wall of the car. Surprisingly, Al paid no mind.

Al rolled his body so he was facing the splintered wall of the car, away from everyone with his knees knocking into the steel frame of the door, still with his bent elbows on either side of his head. He muttered through the curtain of his arm, "Why'd you do that? All we have is each other. We are each other's family. I spent two years looking for my family and I finally found him; I lost my memory of who he had become. He had no right…I only got a few months with him." Al paused to sob, "Why didn't Ed ask me what I wanted?"

"Al," Luminista placed her hand on the back of his shaking head again, "you need to _calm down_, Alphonse. Emilien only did what he was asked to do. And you shouldn't be this worked up. Ed will be right behind us. So he'll be two or three hours behind us? He'll be right behind us." She curtly looked at Emilien, searching for any injuries from wrestling with Al, "You hurt?"

Emilien shook his head, "Nah." He gave an acute laugh, "I'm just glad he didn't punch me; if I remember correctly, he can do some damage, right, Al?"

Al began sitting up when the train suddenly and violently curved and caused the car to slide to the left, causing the travelers to slide with the movement. Luminista's back mercilessly thumped into the corner of the oxidized wall as she glided across the filthy floor. All the people that had been standing, as a result of staying away from the tussle and Al bawling on the floor, fell on top of each other. The parents pillowed their children and fell on top of the baggage. Al's mid-laying form slid head on towards Luminista, the top of his head angled to collide with the bottom of her face, barely smashing his hands against the wall on either side of her as to not crush her, and Emilien slid into Al. When the car straightened out again, everybody sat up grabbing or shaking their heads.

When Emilien moved back from Al, Al looked down at Luminista with orbs radiating like golden Greek krustallos crystals, "Are you ok?"

"Are you?"

Al oscillated towards Emilien, "I'm sorry, Emilien. I just don't like being forcibly separated from Ed, especially in the predicament we're in."

"No, Al," Emilien reversed the apology, "_I'm_ sorry. If I knew how upset you were going to be, I wouldn't have done it. I thought when Ed said to keep you on the train, you were just going to argue a bit with him, not…"

Al frowned and noted that the other trekkers had lost interest once the excitement died, "Have a psychasthenia." Emilien was about to say something but Al didn't let him, "It wasn't you, I just haven't…I don't want to be separated from Ed because it reminds me of the last time we were separated."

Luminista swept upward against the tarnished wall, "What exactly happened last time?"

Al blinked his watery, glassy eyes, "I thought he died. Well, he had died, but he didn't really die. And somehow I felt that and I searched for two years for him; but I had lost my memories of the years we had traveled together to find a…catholicon to restore our bodies. So I had no memory and no clue where he ended up. Turns out he ended up in this world."

"So his death is what sent him here?" Luminista's brows furrowed.

Al stared at the ground with his water-bleeding eyes, "Yes."

"How did he die?"

Al bolstered off of Luminista and onto his elbow, preparing to lie down again as Emilien moved closer, "Sacrificing himself. Sacrificing his mind, body, and soul."

"Why did he do that?"

Al sniffled and looked at a button on his increasingly grungy shirt, "For me."

Emilien shuffled closer as a bump on the tracks moved everyone again, "Why did you need a sacrifice?"

"I died."

Luminista hunched down to see Al's concealed amber eyes, "How did you die? Why did you die?"

"Ed was murdered. He was lying in a pool of blood and I was screaming at him to wake up. When he didn't answer, I transmuted my soul and offered my already…my body. When he woke up and realized I was gone, he transmuted his body, soul, and mind to bring me back from the G…back."

"You two have the greatest amount of loyalty and love for each other than I've ever heard of, Alphonse," Luminista remarked as her back became vertical again.

"I know Ed lost parts of his body so what part of your body did you lose, Al?" Emilien inquired.

"It doesn't matter. All you need to know is mine was restored but Ed didn't receive such luxury from the Ga…he wasn't granted what I was."

"We'll see him in a couple days," Luminista assured. Al rubbed his tearstained face, "You've worn yourself out, Al. You need to cool down." Luminista pulled Al with her as she reclined against in the corner of the silvery wall. "Come on," Luminista latched onto the collar of his jacket and made him sit up, "I refuse to let you keep lying on this icky floor." She leaned out of the corner and pushed Al's back into it, her arm around his lower back, while she used all her might to swing his legs over her lap. Emilien helped and the latter of Al's legs stretched across his lap. The Roma beside Emilien did not care his feet were situated on and near them, still capsized about Al's fragile state. Luminista used her free hand to lure Al's face underneath her jaw and stroked his blonde hair.

"I'll end up crushing you, especially if the train curves again," Al stated.

"In Panaji, which is a city in India, at a celebration called The Carnvial, people danced in the streets to music for three days and had a huge parade. Well, one of the copper floats fell on me during the parade. So if I can handle a wall of copper on top of me, I think I can handle you," Luminista smiled though Al couldn't see it.

Al raised his hand and clutched her sleeve, "You have too many stories for me to keep up with."

Luminista exhaled, "Want to hear another one? After I went to India, I went to China, where a landmark called the Great Wall of China had been built centuries ago. The Great Wall is a powerful symbol and there are legends about it. One of them was called the Xifengkou legend. The legend goes that the Great Wall had an underwater section called Xifengkou. The son of a man was taken to build the Great Wall of China. Once winter came and the son didn't come home, his father became concerned and went to look for him. They ran into each other at a place that was called Songting Hill. According to the legend, they were so elated, they laughed themselves to death and this hill was renamed Xifengkou Pass after the son and father was buried there." Luminista snuggled her nose and cheek into Al's hair, "Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Al?"

"Thank you."

"Go to sleep, Al. If you're not awake when the train slows down, I'll wake you up, ok?"

Al, in beckoning, tilted his head where she could see a tear break free and spoke on the necessary decibel for only Luminista to hear when she bent down, "I lost my entire body."


	7. Soul Sodomy

_**MAKE sure you read the information below.**_

_**If you want to read the parts of this chapter that isn't the horrible part- in italics, there's a date that says **_January 30__**before**_** the bad part and **_after_** the bad part is when you see the italics that says **_February 2 _**(the rest of the line with the February italics may frighten you, but **_**nobody**__**reaches the second destination**_**; so don't be afraid to read past that point). The story around the bad part that's in between the dates is not any more descriptive than two chapters ago, in fact, probably less.**_

The reason I made this fucking chapter is because I took a class on Nazi Germany and wrote papers about it and one should write about things they know. Please don't misinterpret: I am _**in no way**_ calling the Holocaust a favorable example of evil or a measly subject _**at all**_; I am _**not**_ making light of the Holocaust. Also, _**please don't think I made up crazy shit from my own head**_ and put in this chapter, I am basing it on _**historical**_ _**facts**_. This chapter contains the _**Nazi brutality**_ I referred to in the first author's note, though I _**vastly toned the description down**_ –that I'm accustomed anyway- for this chapter. I only go into what Ed witnesses, but _**there is still brutality**_ involved. If you have the stomach to read, I _**shall warn you**_, by most people's standards, it is _**disturbing,**_ as we know the Holocaust to be (this is hardcore the rated M part). Now it is safe to say _**the brutality is a small part of this chapter**_. But there is a generally _**happy ending**_ after the brutality in this chapter. Oh, and I have an extremely foul mouth (in case you couldn't tell by now).

_**MAKE sure you have read the information above.**_

_**Kiddies, kiddies, go away, come again another day- when you're all grown up, you little bastards.**_

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do not own the manga/anime characters, plots, or creation.

**Bless My Body, Bless My Soul**

**By TheKennethAnger**

Chapter 7: Soul Sodomy

**Certum est, quia impossibile**** - ****It is certain, because it is impossible. (Tertullianus)**

_Hohenstadt, Germany,_ _December 28, 1941, 6:42 PM_

Saelac, Adalard, Alice, and Edward were imprisoned. A woman reported Roma stooped behind the ticket booth counter to Nazi soldiers. A woman so brainwashed because of _one man_ she believed the government was in her head; that they could read her thoughts; that if she didn't report them she would suffer dire consequences. That incongruity was the belief of this woman. As Ed and half of the back room was about to be deployed, the legion of Nazis raided the station. The einsatzgruppen, the mobile killing units, shot the Roma on sight. Ed had his issues with Noah, but he would never have wanted her to be wounded or to die; but it unnervingly passed before his eyes.

The Nazis had all the employees, passengers and remaining refugees on the asphalt platform. The commander shouted, "Who is the forerunner here?"

Without reticence or reluctance, trying to save his men, Saelac called out, "I am! It sure took you damn fools long enough to figure out what I was doing, didn't it?" A nearby Nazi kicked the heel of his steel-toed boots into Saelac's nose. Saelac's eyes snapped shut and he felt like his nose imploded into his skull, "But you wanna know what the real joke is? These dumbass employees didn't even see what was under their noses! I don't know which of you are more retarded!" The same Nazi smashed the butt of his rifle into the anterior of Saelac's face. He toppled onto the platform with ounces of blood spurting from his head.

The commander Nazi's face turned so beat red from the ire, one would expect steam to spew from his ears. He walked up to Alice and jerked her by the hair. She almost fell backwards but the Nazi, still wrenching her hair, caught her on his forearm, "You were in the ticket booth! The only way you couldn't have known those pigs were in the back is if you're deaf, blind, and dumb; is that accurate, _traitor_?"

Alice sneered, "You're damn right, _slaughterer_."

The Nazi, somewhat shocked, gritted his teeth and jerked her hair fiercely, "Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you, woman?"

"I don't care; go to hell, you asinine zombie." The Nazi pulled out his dagger and incised the membrane over her cheekbone, but before he could say a word, Alice flouted, "I must say I'm struck with awe you cut me; I didn't know you could do anything without your criminal fürher's permission."

The Nazi yelled, "I am going to keep your tongue as a trophy, woman! I thought I made myself-" to emphasize his point, the Nazi stabbed her upper back with the bronze-handled dagger, "-clear!"

Alice grunted, adrenaline flushing out the excruciating pain and accumulating blood streaming down her black uniform. The Nazi spun her to face him and used the hold on her hair to tug her bleeding face upwards to look into her fearless eyes. The Nazi lifted up the dagger to her throat and even at this point, she scoffed, "And I thought I made myself _clear_." Alice boldly spit in the Nazi's face. He threw her to the ground, making a disgusted noise and wiped his face with his brown glove.

The Nazi kicked her in the ribs, "You're deserving of a more gruesome death, you traitor!"

Alice rolled onto her knees, revealing an impression of blood from where she laid, "Traitor, traitor, traitor; don't you know any other words, simpleton?" The Nazi tempestuously whipped out his handgun and took hold of Alice's bicep. He put the barrel against her outer shoulder, sure to pierce only muscle, and ignited. Alice screamed and fell to the ground, consciously pressurizing her wound.

"That should teach you some manners, you little bitch!" The Nazi howled.

Alice circled onto her knees again and stayed bent over with her forehead on the flagstone platform, clutching her shoulder. Saelac vainly instructed her to stop talking. Tears dropped onto the asphalt of the platform before she erected herself, "Moved from traitor to bitch? That's even less syllables."

The Nazi gripped her hair once more and pulverized her face into the serrated platform. She barely made any sound, not willing to give any of the Nazis an ounce of victory, as he hammered her face onto the concrete repeatedly until the perimeter of which her head was hitting was stained with her blood. When the Nazi stopped, he swiveled her and dragged her to where Saelac and Ed were. Ed willingly used his bleach-gloved hand to wipe some of the gore from her fouled up face after the Nazi turned to his cronies, "Alice, please, stay down; don't say anything else. Please, for me, don't say anymore." His white glove became blood-soaked.

"In front of the train! On your knees; all of you! Employees, passengers, the fleeting- get down now!" The commander instructed, "And nobody try to play the hero like Blondie here!" He pointed at Alice, "You will suffer the same fate as her if you do! She's going to the camp; any of you smart off, you will join her!" Obscuring the sea of terror, Ed and Saelac stood and began pulling Alice to her feet. "Ah, ah, ah, not you three. Stay right where you are; try to run, your legs will go. Trust me, we will not kill you; I want you in the camps. Throw you into a deep hole." Alice nearly spoke through her swollen lips but Ed put a hand over her mouth. The Nazi laughed, "What a good friend." He pulled random individuals from the lineup, pulling them up and harshly shoving them in the direction of Saelac, Alice, and Ed. Adalard was one of them. Then he picked out a brunette woman with a whitened face and her small child. Next he pulled out a black man with a shaved head, who had been waiting on the train, and a white man, who was one of the passengers, with blonde hair. "Now you make nice over there," the soldier spoke towards the group of eight, "you're going on a long trip together."

The Nazi showed a deranged smile, "Take aim, men."

A passenger opined, "Why are you shooting the passengers? We had no idea!"

"You should have been more aware! You have failed your country, and for that, you have forfeited your life!" He walked behind the line of soldiers, "Fire."

Bodies hit the ground and a rain of blood showered the side of the train. In a veil of gun powder and lead, men, women, and children were executed as though an innocent in a witch trial. The soldiers, _the slayers_, were washed in an Elizabeth Bathory bloodbath of sin; they lost the taste for judging right from wrong; they weren't worth the blood that ran in their veins. A dying thought: All the riches in the world will never buy back a soul.

The woman that had been taken from the line up yelped and used her body to cover her child. That child, enshrouded in faintheartedness while clamping his mother, found the departed henna eyes of corpses before his eyes sealed shut.

_January 30, 1942, Dachau, Germany- The First Concentration Camp_

Arbeit Macht Frei. Through work one will be free. How implausibly cruel. Humans incapable of being humane was implausible and cruel. The detainees were steered into contamination and excrements of the reichsbahns, the "goods wagon", as if animals or merchandise shipped to a land of tombs and monstrosity. Identities and flesh stripped like wild animals being skinned alive. The subzero temperatures, the wounds, the filthiness were bitter reminders that humans were no more; they were either degraded inmates or convoluted murderers.

The blackness of the witching hour offered frostbite and desperation. Ed couldn't sleep. Hardly anybody could. Some prisoners huddled, but most were too mortified of communication or bodily contact. The entire upper part of Ed's torso and leg were particularly numb as the metal was essentially colder than ice. Quite a bit of the replica skin Al had so delicately and swiftly learned how to fabricate and apply had turned to tatters and peeled off the grated metal during the slave labor. The moment he started to see spots of his automail, the idea of concealment rolled in like a storm: the mud. Even though blood had sunk in and transfused with the muck under the snow-covered earth added to the stench, Ed had no other choice. He had to cup handfuls of the bloody dirt and smear it onto the revealed automail as thick as possible. So far, it had lasted. The only other inmate he conversed with once in a blue moon was Adalard- the Jewish man from the train station.

Ache and sting seared like hot coals in the lacerations sliced in Ed's emerging hair. One of the gashes on his head occasionally spewed sinus and plasma that trickled into his eyes. Sometimes it would drip past his eye, streaming down his blistered, contused cheek only to leak onto the dirt-coated, gray and navy striped fatigues. The striped material was the singular separation between his worn body and the frigid air. He torturously hovered his flesh hand over the slashes on his scalp but let it fall as his automail arm slithered around his torso with a groan. His shoulder and elbow were viciously elastic and swollen as his cut up automail hand gently cushioned the dislocated elbow. His legs instinctively curled into his body as his breath hitched.

"I'm sorry I couldn't relocate your shoulder," Adalard noiselessly apologized.

Ed's automail slipped behind his beaten elbow and he grated, "It's not your fault. You're just as disabled as I am."

Adalard twisted his feet to readjust the ill-fitting wooden shoes they'd been given with a cracking of his ankles, "I can at least move my shoulder."

"I've had worse," Ed cringed. _Aside from the starvation, I suppose_… "You can barely use your hands."

"What'd you say you thought it was?" the word escaped Adalard.

"Probably monoeuropathy. Your injuries could've caused it; given you nerve damage, which is why your hands are so weak," Ed slid his automail hand from his elbow to his bicep to situate his shoulder in a certain position.

"I don't know how much longer I can use my arms in place of my hands during all the…all of this. And I definitely wouldn't 've made it this far without you helpin' me," Adalard laid onto his back on the muddy, polluted soil of the cinderblock shelter and careened into himself. "At the very least, we didn't get selected for…"

Ed's foot underwent a spasm and he looked at the layer of blood wringed around the top of the splintered shoe, "They were ethical philanthropists. I've only spoken to God or whoever a couple times, and I haven't talked to 'em in so long, but I pray for their souls."

"They didn't deserve…these monsters will burn one day, Ed," Adalard affirmed.

Ed closed his eyes out of helplessness, "No, they didn't deserve their fates. Nobody here deserves any of this."

"How could they put a man in a cell to starve to death?" Adalard lamented.

"How could they do anything that's going on here? As a human being, how can you do this to other humans?" Ed added on, "No, these aren't humans anymore; these are demons."

"He...starved to de…I know we aren't much better off with the bread and water, but hell, at least we have bread and water."

"What happened to Saelac should never happen to a hominid," Ed sniffled gently. "Just like feeding Alice and that child cyanide gas. Or executing that man. Or shattering that other's head. Or forcing that mother to die after non-stop marches for days." Ed looked at Adalard, "Or what's happening to us."

Adalard reached up to touch Ed's protruding shoulder but retracted after Ed flinched to get away from him and Adalard hid his face to contain the hurricane of tears. Though Adalard eventually cried himself to slumber, Ed could only think about the day he and the other prisoners were forced into this living hell. The memories of the day he'd arrived in this pit as black as the grave flooded behind his eyes.

Adalard, Saelac, and he were selected for toilsome slave labor. The black man stood on the crumbling edge of a pit with men of multiple races. Bullets shot through their heads and necks with the clicks of triggers. Gore coexisting with brains and grains of skull erupted then the massacred men gravitated into the chasm. He'd lost sight of the passenger the Nazi had chosen at the train station until he witnessed the passenger stumbling in the grip of a Nazi, a devil. Once the Nazi took stance behind the passenger, he inaudibly yelled into the passenger's ear. The passenger looked terrorized but the Nazi yelled again. The passenger looked at the wheel of the train he was kneeled in front of. The Nazi once again shrieked and took hold of the passenger's shoulders to knee the column of his spine. The passenger brutally grimaced. Eventually, the passenger dropped his bottom lip and bit the infectious iron wheel. The Nazi heaved an slab of bedrock from the ground behind him to break it to smithereens as it swung into the back of the passenger's head. Ed cringed and adverted his eyes when the passenger fell, exposing his blooded, caved in cranium while teeth exploded around his face, some clinking against the metal of the train.

The child from the train station was dragged away from his mother, the woman dreadfully and futilely bawled for him to be returned. The boy was pronto tossed into the first congregation of child prisoners; drove towards concrete structures framing bronze dead bolt doors, ominous and promising. Smoke arose from the ventilation system that puffed from the top of the structure. Muffled screams spread through Ed's eardrums and an unidentifiable odor offended his olfactory nerves as he squinted against the acrimonious wave of airflow whirling stronger than a cyclone. Reverting his eyes back to the mother, two Nazis dragged her to the todesmärsche, a death march. Ed heard one of the soulless Nazis that had ahold of the mother, "I hope you're in shape, piggy; it's time you walk a few hundred miles; learn some goddamn discipline." He threw her against one of the other inmates and laughed as he pushed her head to the side a couple times, as if he were joking.

Saelac, Adalard, and Ed were driven towards another structure, this one of brick with wide openings replacing doors. Ed saw men and women being rushed around the building inside the opening. Ed looked to the hole that the black man had fallen into post-execution. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped as he saw piles of bodies; probably hundreds, maybe thousands. The mass grave blew a stench into Ed's nostrils and he turned his face away from the atrocious sight and clasped his gloved hand over his nose. Eventually, the three were in a sequence of dehumanization inside the brick building. Heads shaved, clothes taken and replaced with thin apparel- basically sleeveless, striped burlap sacks and ill-shaped wooden shoes covered in splinters-, and inmate number tattoos given; no person spared the cruciations.

As soon as the ignition ended, the inmates were put to labor, lifting and shuffling objects typically too heavy for one to carry. But one carried or one died. The days trudged by as the horrors and the hunger and the faith passed over. Some Nazis snaked through the laborers, who had been shoveling snowy, bloodied dirt into one of the mass graves from sundown to sunset, and harvested a batch of the prisoners into a huddle. Two Nazis went to the left as one diverted to the right, as if an old-fashioned shoot out was about to take place. Three other Nazis stood with the group of the inmates smack in the middle. The three in the middle started shoving the inmates at intervals towards the other separated Nazis. The inmates that were still shoveling, fearing their fate if they stopped, overheard the Nazis in the middle calling out 'standing cell' or 'starvation cell' as the chosen were alternatively separated. There was blood in his eye from a wound from a knife that had been hacked over his noggin, but Ed saw Saelac thrown into the group for the starvation cells. He briefly closed his eyes without ceasing his movements, occulting the heartbreak. He shoveled the dirt into the toxic tomb to relieve antipathy and defenselessness. Their suffering was as somber as sin as the clouds were gathering above, into great walls of mea culpa, near weeping to be the sole source of cleanliness for the surmounted bodies and souls.

Ed recoiled into the heinous present, the heinous purgatory. Ed looked up and noticed a man with eyes staring to the other side was stripped to his bones by fellow inmates- regretfully but necessary for survival. Ed heard one of the men that had taken one of the wooden shoes from the lifeless inmate as he lay his hand of the deceased's forehead, "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name sake…Yea, though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil: For thou art with me." The man dry sobbed a couple times, "I'm sorry, my friend; please forgive me. I will search for your soul, begging your forgiveness, in the Valley of the Shadow of Death."

_February 2, 1942, Germany, A __reichsbahn from Dachau to Auschwitz_

The poor inmates were on a train from the concentration camp Dachau to the extermination camp Auschwitz. Trepidation was evident on the faces of the prisoners. Ten minutes had passed since the train began trucking on the tracks; they were nearly half way to Auschwitz. But a _godsend_ for some of the inmates occurred, an unadulterated _godsend_.

The car bumped with a thunderous screech as the frosty wheels derailed from the iced-over rails and an ear-splitting shrill signaled the metal of the hooks connecting the cars severed. The people in the car were airborne and tumbled into the rigid metal of the avalanching car. The side of the car became the ceiling, the opposite side of the car became the floor, and the ceiling became a wall. The dense sliding doors unhinged after busting open, wretchedly crushing some of the inmates. When the train fell headlong and came to rest, a cloud of smoke and dusty snow hailed from the opened doors.

One of the unbalanced doors knocked Ed on his back and would have crushed his torso and head if not for the agile decision to sling up his automail arm to hold up the edge of the hardware door that nearly flattened him. Adalard had been standing a couple people away from him before the accident occurred but landed like a ragdoll next to Ed after the derailing and his efforts effectually saved Adalard's legs. Despite his deteriorated body, Ed used the forearm of his diced automail that he caught the door with to shakily lift the door off of him, providing Adalard the same outcome. _This is the only and last opportunity I have to get away_. Ed groaned as he used his ruthlessly impaired flesh arm's hand to push on the back of his automail hand for support. _Al needs me. We have to get through the Gate. I have to get back to him. I told him I'd get back to him_. To Ed's appreciation, Adalard bent his forearms against the ore door for additional support.

"Adalard," Ed gasped, "slide out."

"I won't leave you under here!" Adalard claimed.

"Don't worry, I ain't staying under here." Ed scratchily urged Adalard, "We don't have time, Adalard! They'll be coming any time! Please! Slide out!"

Against his conscience, Adalard slinked from underneath the door. Ed creaked, "I know you don't have a lot of strength in your hands but-"

Another inmate was inching from under the edge of the metal with his upper body and panted, "I can crawl out! Can I do that? Will you let me do that?"

"Yes! Please, go!" Ed commanded to the brunette. The man army crawled out from under the door, his legs obviously mutilated but he still gave it all he had. "Pull my legs!" Ed yelled to the free man.

"But, the door will cru-" the man started.

As a result of not talking much at all, Ed's voice broke, "Fuck it." Ed nearly screamed when the door dug into his flesh arm as he used it to hold up the load from crushing him as he rolled onto his automail and unsteadily, but determinedly, got onto his metal elbow. He eventually made it to his hands and knees, despite all the dislocations and bloody wounds and the exhaustion, to hold up the door. As quickly as possible, Ed started propelling himself backwards, his back scraping along the metal which caused his fatigues to rip. His back was overcome but he tried not to think about the pain in his flesh arm while he desperately pushed himself backwards with his hands. When the edge of the door was approaching the base of his neck, the man and Adalard tried to hold up the door until Ed could get out. But Ed knew that if he moved, it would crush their fingers and forearms. "Let go!" Ed ordered. The men started to protest but Ed became enraged, "Let the fuckin' door go, goddamn it! It will fuckin' crush your fingers; now let the hell go so we can get out of here! _Now_!"

The men felt like turncoats when they moved back from the door. Ed removed his flesh hand out from under the door as he angled his back to where the edge of the door rested on his hair line, erratically balancing himself with his weakening, bending automail. Ed took a couple deep breaths and strenuously boosted all but his automail wrist from beneath the door. The cumbersome door pummeled onto his automail hand and wrist, but he didn't give a damn. Speaking to the men behind him, he cried out, "Pull me back as hard as you can!" Not wanting to disobey Ed again, Adalard and the man pulled Ed away from the door, but Ed's automail hand and wrist disconnected from the rest of the arm. The other two men gave cries that made their own blood run cold but Ed silenced them, "It's not real," he swiftly tore the fake skin off, "my arm's not real; I lost it. Now let's hurry!"

Adalard and the man didn't have time to consider the stupefying information as they trailed Ed. The man suggested, "I'll lift you two up! Neither one of you have use of your hands! I can jump up; my hands and arms work fine! Just try and help me up if I start falling back!"

Ed franticly agreed, "That's the only option we've got!"

Adalard reminded, "But your legs! They're in no condi-"

"I'll make them in condition!" the man assured. "Now come on!"

The man lifted Ed up first. Ed gripped the edge of the frozen car, using his defective automail to pull himself out of the train, not eluding a few slips because of the ice. _Thank all things holy I'm tall now_. His height added onto the ability to wriggle onto the top of the car regardless of only having one arm. His torso landed over the bound of the car and he bent his leg up to plant his foot and lift himself onto the side of the car. Adalard was next. The man boosted up Adalard up for Ed to grab a hold of. Ed's body was saying no but his will was saying yes- to anchor his destroyed automail on the edge of the car then bend his dislocated elbow to make a bar of his flesh forearm for Adalard to wrap his arms around. Ed yelped as he pulled, his dislocations begging for ease, until Adalard anchored his knee onto the edge of the car and hauled his body up the rest of the way.

Then the man still in the car backed a few steps away from the point he was at and took a run and go. He leaped as high as his depreciated legs allowed, only able to get up enough to get his hands gripped to the rim of the car. Like Ed though, the man had shear will power and he was not going to let this pain, nothing compared to what he had already endured, hinder him. His muscles felt like they were tearing and his malnourished arms were on fire, but he lifted his weight by his hands anyway. He got his forearms onto the edge of the car, starting to lift his remaining, dangling body. But his forearms slipped because of the icy metal. He squeaked as he closed his eyes, crying at the thought of being left in the car. He heard the soldiers' voices shouting. Ed and Adalard wouldn't have the time to let him try again and get away at the same time. But his eyes shot open when his ragged shirt was forcefully clutched in a winding motion. "Slide your arms to another spot," Ed groaned as his flesh hand held him up by unanticipated potency, closely coming to sliding on the ice himself.

The man didn't think twice as he readjusted his overwhelmed elbows but commented, "You should have let me go; they'll be here any minute."

Ed scratchily groaned, "That's not how I operate."

Within another half a minute, the man joined Adalard and Ed on top of the frosty car as the voices were growing louder. Ed made a 'sh' sound to the two other escapees and he crept to the outermost brink of the train, which had once been an upright wall. Ed looked the direction the voices were coming from and established they were still out of sight. He gritted his chattering teeth then Ed hopped off the train into the subterranean snow, his wooden shoes chiseling into his feet. Adalard, who had only one wooden shoe, took a frightened breath and sprung into the snow beside Ed, his foot instantly icing under the precipitation. The man scuttled to the edge and vaulted onto the ground below him, tipping into the snow due to his battered legs. But Ed pulled him up and took the option they'd been bequeathed: they ran. The crunching of the snow was vigorous and echoing, possibly attracting the Nazis' attention, but they bolted anyway. They didn't run long before they heard the declaration that there were foot prints in the silver snow. Then, enthusiastic crunches shot like bullets through the air.

Adalard whispered, "Shit, they're comin' after us. Why would they waste all that energy for a few people escaping?"

The man enlightened, "Because they're freakin' crazy bastards. We have to think of something quick." Ed stopped mid-run and the fellow fleers ran a couple feet past him before halting, "Hey, kid, we have to keep running."

Without turning to look at Adalard and the man, instead eyeing a break in the snow that exposed a black line, Ed explained, "If they catch a single glimpse of us, they'll open fire…or worse, they'll chase us down and take us back into custody." Ed then glanced at them, "I refuse to let either of those things happen. Come on," Ed ran towards the obscure line in the snow.

They uncertainly tailed Ed having no other feasible notions. Adalard panted, "Ed, what are we doing?"

When Ed reached the dark line, he kneeled onto the stinging snow, "During winter, parts of the ground freeze and the apogee becomes inelastic and caves. I'm kicking in the crevice; it will cave into a burrow."

"I'm not _entirely_ sure what you're talkin' about, kid," the man regarded as he got on the ground next to Ed assisting in helping kick in the cleft despite his hurt legs, "but you're obviously pretty smart. So I hope you're right about this." Adalard lay on the snowy ground and underwent kicking in the burrow. After a few more kicks from the trio, the ground below them collapsed and they slid in with dirt and snow rambling behind them. The man shook his head, "Damn. It's a burrow, small, but a burrow. You were right."

"We're not in the clear," Ed affirmed.

"We're underground, Ed," Adalard whispered.

Ed glimpsed at his comrade and whispered back, "And our footprints lead right here, then they cut off." Ed closed his eyes to think, "Adalard, give me your shoe."

Adalard didn't want to forfeit the shoe he had left, but a shoe versus his life and the lives of others… it was a no-brainer, "Here you go," he handed Ed the shoe.

"Goddam, my arm is hurtin' like a bitch," Ed scurried up the hole enough to throw Adalard's shoes behind the entrance of the hole and tucked back in. "That's mild enough to think we've gotten too far." Ed moved in between Adalard and the man and started kicking further into the burrow then the other two men instantly offered the same service as they did on the surface. More of the ground caved and they were a good way from the maiden entrance despite how squished they were. Ed scrabbled back to the entry, resultantly grinding against Adalard and the man, and used his automail elbow to bash into the ground to seal off the burrow with dirt. A few moments following the construction of the makeshift refuge, the triad could hear approaching crunches. They didn't move or make a peep as they heard the Nazis confusedly admit, "They've disappeared. We don't have time to look for these hellions, let's go back."

Ed, Adalard, and the man remained silent until all the crunches faded. Even then, they waited a while to speak. The man complimented, "Wow, kid, I gotta hand it to ya. That was pretty crafty."

Adalard interjected, "Something tells me you've been in this kind of situation before…"

Ed curled into himself and dry heaved from the prodigious agony spurring in his flesh arm. The man apologized, "Oh, shit, sorry, kid, I forgot your arms. Is there anything we can do?"

Even though the contact was shaking him to the core, not remotely wanting human touch, Ed groaned, "It's not like we have a mountain of room in here for you to do something. We're lucky this burrow is capacious and far enough underground for the subduction zone of the crust not to cave on top of us."

The man blinked and tried to stabilize his shaking body and voice, "Are you like a genius? Is your IQ really high? I mean, did you go to a university before the country-"

Exasperated, Ed laid on his back, barely stretching out his legs and replied, "No, I don't even have school where I'm from. I just read bounteous books and have an exorbitant anamnesis for nomenclature and methodical precept."

Adalard and the man looked at him with wide eyes. Adalard acknowledged while he uselessly tried to clench his hands, "I have no idea what you just said except you didn't go to school and you read books…"

The man sniffled and dug his elbow into the earth, "You didn't go to school or nothin'? You gotta be lying or you're indeed a genius."

Ed became a bit annoyed, "Please…just stop talking. I'm in bad shape."

"Oh right," Adalard redirected his attention. He slithered up the narrow crevice, "I know you don't want me to touch you, honestly I'm _scared to death_ to touch anyone, but we're already mushed together. Can you turn on your side?" Ed complied for Adalard to inspect his shoulder, who only gagged, "Oh my God, Ed. Your shoulder is bad."

Ed heaved with an undertone, "Elaborate."

"You need to lie like this or on your stomach, Ed," Adalard shuddered, "I can see a small part of bone from your shoulder."

Ed whined, "It figures. It's always me."

"What do you mean?" Adalard deadpanned.

"Nothing. I'm just goin' to lay like this for a little bit," Ed's eyes fell shut as his taxed and borderline skeletal body took vengeance for the strenuous movements.

The man quietly questioned Ed, "So, your name's Ed?" Ed grunted. "Well, Ed, you just pulled two grown men out of a car with your bone stickin' out of your back." The man sighed, "I really do owe you my life and I'm sorry you're having to go through this."

"I'm sorry _anybody_ has to go through this. All things considered, I turn a deaf ear to complaining," Ed breathed through his nose as his flesh arm set aflame.

"Complain or not, you're a real hero, kid," the man confirmed.

_'You're called the hero of the people, Fullmetal_' "No I'm not. Heroes believe in something. Something for _the greater good_, for _the love of their fellow man,_ for _morality_. I don't believe in much of anything. Not anymore," Ed quietly bewailed.

"You saved two people," Adalard attested. "That's heroism to me; that's for the love of fellow man and for morality and, no matter the size of the contribution, for the greater good." Ed didn't reply. Adalard looked through his speedily blinking at the other man, "I didn't catch your name."

The man leaned his head against the dirt wall of the burrow, "Doron."

Adalard tried to smile, "Welcome aboard."

Doron looked at Ed's closed, sunken eyes and scowling face, "Ed, I freaked out when I saw your hand pop off. But I'm glad it was a prosthetic."

Ed mumbled, "I lost my arm in an accident. It happened because of a mistake I made. A bad one," Ed shivered and slowly rolled onto his stomach.

"Man, it must have been a pretty big mistake," Doron ventured as ache electrocuted his calves.

"Suffice to say, I gave up my arm to save my little brother when he was in danger because of me. I'd give up anything for 'em," Ed justified.

Doron contributed, "Back to the hero thing."

"I'm not a hero if I'm the one who caused the problem."

"Aw, you're so full of shit," Doron yawned from exhaustion. "Ya obviously got the hero gene ingrained in you. And the big time modesty gene."

"I just need to rest," Ed ignored Doron's reasoning. "We'll get out of here in a while. We have to get somewhere, anywhere to get out of this hellhole of a country."

"Man with a plan. It's a good thing, my plans always got me thrown out of bars and arrested," Doron feebly joked. But the minute of mirth transformed into seriousness, "That is, before this whole thing."

Adalard's eyes drooped, "For a man who just left a concentration camp, you're upbeat."

Doron frowned, "I wasn't upbeat until we got away from those mass murderers. I can find an ounce of upbeat-ness in that."

"Wish I could find that," Adalard validated.

Ed sniffled, "I'll never find that."

Doron looked up at the blonde, "Well, ya know, you'll never find it if you're lookin' for it. You'll get that happiness again, Ed. It might take a few months, maybe a few years, but you'll get it."

"Happiness isn't guaranteed. I don't know if I'll ever get back to the people I care about. I'm not sure I want to get back anymore...I don't want them to see me like this."

Adalard just about placed a hand on Ed's back, "You have to accept the things you cannot change. The people you love will not blame you for what's happened to you, Ed. They'll want to patch you up, not rip your unraveling seams."

Doron attempted to relax the muscles in his legs and added, "No matter how incredibly gay that sounded, Adalard's right, man. Your family won't turn their backs on you."

Ed twisted his face into the dirt, "I just don't want them to see me like this. Al and Winry have never seen me anything close to this and I don't want them to."

Doron interrogated, "Is Al and Winry your brother and sister?"

Ed, uncaring of the dirt, pushed his nose more towards the ground, "Al's my brother and Winry isn't my sister…I mean, she's my sister in the context of I grew up with her after my and Al's parents died and her being my best friend for my whole life. But she's not my sister in the context of me being…romantically involved with her."

Doron hesitantly asked, "So they weren't taken by the Nazis?"

"I saved my brother; I pushed him into a train to get him out of the country but Winry…the Nazis didn't even come close to taking her but...she's too far away for me to ever see her again," Ed felt his heart shattering; saying it aloud was different from thinking it.

Doron indulged with an indignant voice, "My girlfriend and dad were shot by those cunts. They think they're real tough, going around killin' innocent people; how tough do you have to be to pull a trigger?"

"I'm sorry," Ed whispered.

Doron sighed, "Hey, man, you didn't do it."

Adalard also indulged, "Before I met you in the train station, Ed…My wife and I had only gotten close to there because of my grandparents. They were storming up the stairs and my grandparents gave us their guns and pushed me and Mary out the window onto the roof. She said she and my grandpa would come if they could've jumped down without drawing attention. So she shut the window and we jumped down and ran like the hounds of hell were chasing us…then again…ah, you both know what I'm thinking. So we were getting close to a couple of train stations before the one you were at, but we were intercepted. We were in the woods and we were walking to one of the stations and we heard the leaves crunching and realized someone was coming after us." Tears fell out of Adalard's eyes and Ed tried to move his hand to touch his companion's shoulder, but he couldn't lift it, "Anyway, Mary kissed me and told me she loved me and that I didn't need to say a word to contradict her. Then she pulled the gun I had out of my coat pocket and she took the safety off. When I asked her what she was doing, I thought she was going to shoot them, but she tossed the gun to the side of us. She told me there was going to be too many of them, that I was the one who looked most like a white German out of the two of us." Adalard wiped the freefalling tears only to have more leak like a broken faucet, "Then she told me to lie down. I wasn't going to but she put one of her legs behind mine and made me fall beside the gun. And she took out her gun, turned off the safety, and pressed the barrel to my forehead. I tried to get it out of her hand so I could get up but she kept saying, 'No, baby, it'll go off, stop moving around, I might accidentally pull the trigger. Don't make me shoot you.' So I stopped and she stayed on top of me with the gun to my head until the Nazis showed up. Then she told them that she'd kill them like she was going to kill me. And when she was referring to me, she said 'this snitch'. And she stood up so none of them would hit me and they shot her, a lot. Then they came over to me and helped me up and gave me back my gun and told me good work. I wanted them to get the hell away from us. So I told them I wanted to put a couple bullets in her to relieve some anger and they left. So I shot off the gun into the forest a few times and dropped that gun. Mary died in my arms. And I can never forgive myself for not doing something to stop it."

Ed comforted, "In a way, I know how you feel. I've done a lot of things that I wish I could take back, that I want to do over. A lot of people got killed over things I did and I hate myself more and more for each body buried because of me. I would take any punishment to take it all back. To bring them back to life." _Hughes, Nina, all the people that died in the civil war in Lior, all the people I let the Homoculi kill._ Ed choked tears back, "Even my father died because of me and I almost got my brother and Winry killed. I destroy everything I touch."

Adalard ratified, "Sounds like you have a few more regrets than me."

"My woes do not take away from yours," Ed debunked.

"But my woes are not as plentiful as yours."

Doron cut in, "You're just…taking too much sadness as blame, ya know?"

"No, it's not an overestimation. You just have no idea," Ed's shoulder shot up with agony, causing him to weakly fist his hand, and looked to Adalard, "I can't imagine Winry dying in my arms. I'm sorry." His vocal chords were spiraling from underuse.

"It's like Doron said, you didn't do it, Ed," Adalard assured. He weakly smiled, "Winry must mean the world to you. It seems you love her as though she were your wife."

Ed's eyes fell, "She's my kindred soul." Ed sighed, "But she won't want me…not after everything's that happened here."

Doron interceded, "What the hell are you talkin' about, man? Your freakin' soul mate won't bail out because you were tortured. That doesn't even make sense."

"I stole from…I helped a man commit suicide…they made me beat a woman half to death with a fucking shovel. I've become a monster."

"Ed! That's not true," Adalard scolded. "The Nazis are the monsters; and they're trying to trick everyone else into thinking we're just like them. Don't get that in your mind, Ed."

Doron agreed, "Yeah, kid, that just ain't the case. It took us a lot of things we didn't want to do to survive. And your girl won't care what you did to survive, she'll just be glad you're back."

"Until she realizes the thing I've become."

"I already told to you to get that out of your head," Adalard distressingly wiggled against the collapsing dirt against his back.

Ed shivered, "I'm not the guy she loved."

"You're still Ed, right, man?" Doron set out to prove a point. "You're still in the same body, ya still got the voice you've always had, ya love 'er like you did. If she loves you, she'll stick by ya. She's a woman; she just won't have it no other way, ya know?"

The three men finally achieved some mild, unperturbed rest. Sleep did not overtake any of them for long, but a rest that was urgently required was bestowed. When Ed gained some strength back into his arm, he considered a lethargic Doron, "Do your legs feel better?"

"Got some strength back, yeah," Doron conveyed dazedly.

"We have to figure something out, we can't stay down here forever," Adalard pondered.

"We have to go West," Ed faintly informed the two men as he squirmed to the opening.

Doron shadowed him, "Why West?"

"The Nazis have taken over France," Ed stuck his hand into the earth that he plundered over the opening of the burrow with. "I know Strasbourg has people that can get us into Switzerland."

"Can they get me into Belgium?" Adalard deliberated.

"I don't know."

"It's just that I have family there. Well, it's Mary's family but her family is my family. Family is the most important thing, after all."

"Yes, after all," Ed mumbled to himself. The other men started to dig like gophers into the wall of soil with Ed. When they reached the uppermost of the ground, a setting sun blurred by the abundant snowflakes met their dilated eyes. "We must have been down there for over five hours, maybe seven or eight. The Nazis may not be gone; they could be retreading the train." He painfully lifted himself onto the blistering snow and sat down momentarily.

Adalard and Doron skulked from the burrow, peering in all directions in search of any unwanted fiends when Adalard noticed Ed taking off his shoes, "What are you doing, Ed?"

Ed tossed the shoes and they landed by Adalard's crimson feet, "I took your shoe; have mine."

"Ed, no, I can't take th-"

Ed scratched the skin on his automail leg and the shine of the metal poked through like rays of light from the setting sun poked through the clouds, "It's kind of like I'm already wearing a shoe. Even if it may freeze up on me. I can't stand those anymore anyway."

"Man, your foot can get major frostbite. You may have to have it amputated if it's too bad," Doron warranted.

"I know," Ed got to his knees. "Could you help me tear some of the shirt off? Preferably a lengthy piece." Doron nodded and helped rip a piece from his shirt. Ed sat on his bottom again and propped his ankle on his automail. The horrid popping of his left shoulder made his jaw lock as he strapped the crude and reedy cast around his foot. Without a word, Doron ripped off a piece of his own shirt as well, similar in size to Ed's piece, and handed it to Ed. "Thank you," Ed whispered. Adalard got Doron to rip off a piece from his shirt too. Ed issued thanks again. He began wrapping the material around his foot. "It's not the best in the world, but at least my foot won't be making direct contact with the snow."

"Wait. What about that shoe you threw earlier?" Adalard recollected.

Ed dared, "Try and find it. The snow's probably covered it up."

"Well we can look for it," Adalard started behind the burrow to find the shoe until Ed's voice made him yield.

"There's also the distinct potential one of the Nazis took it." Ed rose to his feet, "Let's go, I don't want to fuck around and be seen."

"So…you're prosthetics are made of metal…" Adalard deduced as they started moving in the direction they had been headed before the shake down, "There's no such thing."

Ed sighed, "They're parlous maturates that have more movement because of nerve attachment."

"Speak normal," Doron sneezed.

"They're advanced prosthetics and unique because they attach to my nerves," Ed broke down his statement and grimaced, crossing his maltreated arm with the remainder of his automail.

Adalard wondered out loud, "How is that possible?" He turned to Ed, "What virtuoso came up with that? Some crazy mechanic?"

Ed gloomily smiled thinking of Winry, "My mechanic is a bit crazy. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Did he take genius lessons from Einstein?" Doron jested.

Ed peered over his shoulder to make sure they didn't have shadows tagging along with them, "When you think about it, if Einstein was such a genius, why did he impart with the information that creates devices for murder and war? He's a genius without common sense, if you ask me."

Adalard stepped in an unforeseen hole under the snow and stumbled a bit, "That may be, but you're avoiding the point. That is very advanced technology. Whoever made it could make a lot of money off-"

"She already does," Ed interposed. "Winry made them; now _she's_ a genius. She's been my mechanic since I lost my limbs." Ed ran his hand over the scars on his head beneath the couple inches of hair that had grown, "Winry is a genius and she's an angel; no downside really."

Adalard yawned, "I tell you what, Ed, if Winry's as great as you say she is, you should marry her when you get back to her. And even if she's not, you seem to think so, and you should still marry her when you get back to her."

"I may never get back to her. And it's like I said, she won't want me the way I am now," Ed bemoaned.

"Ed, stop thinkin' that already," Adalard became steamed. "You have a chance to be with the woman you love, don't insult me."

Ed stopped and looked at Adalard head on, "You think I'm saying these things because I want to? I want nothing less. But I assure you, Winry is untouchable now. She lives in another…part of the world."

Doron interceded, "You mean like America?"

Ed didn't have the strength to continue this developing conflict, "Yes." He looked to Adalard again, "Besides I fucked up last time I saw her. The last time I saw her…she slapped me in the face and told me to go to hell. But I provoked her; I heartlessly insulted her; I told her she was selfish and not important because I'm an asshole. He who slings mud loses ground kind of thing. I wouldn't be angry if she has affection for someone else by now. After the way I treated her, she deserves to fall in love with someone more compassionate and respectful and less unattractive, less vulgar and ill-mannered than me. That's what she deserves. What I said to her tears me all apart and I just don't want to talk about it any further." Ed started traipsing through the snow again.

A cataract of water extinguished Adalard's burning emotions, "Don't think so lowly of yourself. You figured out how to get out of the executions and the cells and the chambers; you've saved my ass for the last month. Now you've saved me again, and somebody else." He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled, "Weird, huh? We've talked more in the past few hours than we've talked in total for over a month."

Doron contracted, "I know it's that way for me. I just…" he closed his eyes, thankfulness bashing his brain, "…I'm just so relieved I'm out of there that I want to indulge in something I couldn't do in there. Talking and having a scrap of freedom is a couple of those things." Doron looked upon Ed, "How about you, kid? Ain't you relieved?" When Ed merely nodded his head, Doron nudged Ed and began to say something but choked his comment back when he noticed Ed vacuum-packed his eyes and winced away from him.

Ed snubbed the harsh sting enveloping his bare foot, "There has to be a town or something around here."

Adalard inquired, "Yeah, but what will we do when we get there? Oh, hey, store-clerk, please ignore our gashed up heads but…"

"I haven't planned that far ahead. I wasn't exactly in the saddle," Ed croaked out. "We just have to keep moving."

As the minutes turned into an hour, the weather spasmodically came and went. The snow would be light and merciful one moment, and then Thor would unleash an alp of blustering crystals. The trio drudged through the chomping sleet and snowfall in fortitude, each having worsening physical swelling and detriment with every step they took. Ed thought his legs were going to buckle because his foot and ankle were so numb and his automail was congealing with enough hailstones to cause the metal to crack. He felt like he was stumbling every other step and he was weighing taking off the damaged shirt. When Ed was convincing himself to keep trucking, a figure in charcoal caught his eye. He stopped dead in his tracks, Adalard and Doron following suite. He made a merging 'sh' sound as he did on the train and pointing at the approaching figure. The men had the wind knocked out of them and tried to come up with a course of action to bypass the figure.

A consoling voice asserted, "If you're Jews, you're in good company. We are The Righteous Among Nations. We will help you."

Ed crooned, "Righteous?" He wasn't wholeheartedly convinced so he distractedly tested, "You're the ones gettin' pe'ple tuh Strasbourg."

"Yes, then to Basel in Switzerland." The man strain to see Ed, "I'm surprised you know about us."

Ed then entrusted the man as Adalard confirmed, "We met some of your members at a train station but we were all taken hostage…"

"I'm…ain't Jewish, but…," Ed groused.

The man incredulously blinked, "Of course we'll help you." He hustled towards the wounded escapees after seeing that Ed had no shoes on. He tried to pick him up from the snow but Ed backed away, nearly tripping into the blistering snow. The man retracted his arms, "Sorry. I get overzealous; I just saw that you had no shoes on."

Ed shivered and mumbled, "I got it. Jus' don't…uh… touch me." The man gave a sick at heart expression. "I can't handle that sh't."

Without the man's countenance altering but his mind wandering to Ed's speech, he indulged, "If you're sure…" He turned around, gesturing for them to follow.

When the refugees took after him, Adalard hung back with Ed, "We're bad off, huh? I backed away from him too." He sighed, "When he was coming towards us, all I saw was a Nazi coming to torture us…and I'm afraid for anyone to touch me too." Adalard looked at Ed, "I was about to cry when we were in that hole. Well, I mean, I guess I did cry but not about the physical contact…" his voice fell, "…just Mary."

Ed coarsely and miserably bemoaned, "Sorry 'bout your wife ag'in. And in the burrow, I had tuh pretend you two ain't people. I was scared when we were movin' 'round to settle. Not to mention I felt like…bein' buried."

Adalard made a confused mien, "Ed, are you ok? You're slurring badly."

Ed inhaled depthless and his eyes slung open and closed. He remained silent.

"Ed-"

They came to a verbal and physical stop when they loomed upon a group of three men and four women in black pantsuits and heavy winter wear. One of the women with curly brown hair gasped, "Dear lord, we found somebody."

The man that had led Adalard, Doron, and Ed to the group enlightened, "We've been moving all along the train tracks to see if we could find somebody. We were closer to the tracks but we noticed one of the Nazis in the front car looking around and figured they were looking for people."

One of the men maintained, "It must have taken you well over an hour to get to us. I'm sorry we were so far."

One of the other women spoke, "On the other hand, we didn't really expect anyone to get off the trains. Until now, it's not happened. And the Righteous have been patrolling the tracks for a couple of years now."

Doron stated, "The rails were iced over and the wheels slipped off the track and flipped the car a couple times. I think it broke off from the rest of the train."

Another woman commented, "Thank goodness you got away." She ushered the group to help her distribute the multiple covers they had in their one ebony, one ginger cars. She personally took one to Ed but gasped when she noticed he wasn't wearing any shoes, "My lord, child, come and get in the car." She began to rub his shoulder but he recoiled, nearly falling, and shut his eyes. "I apologize, I will not touch you. We mean no harm. Please, just come and lie in the car." Next she caught eye of his peeking automail. "Your leg…it's-"

"-prosthetic, new d'sign, ya know?" Ed brushed her off.

Accepting the answer, she inspected his face for any panic after he shut his eyes when she caped the cover around his worn shoulders, deciding not to drape it from behind because he wouldn't be able to see her, then led him to the car. Ed felt like his arms were jelly as he hesitantly and gravely inched with stiff muscles to lie across the back seat. Before he completely reclined, he looked to his side and saw Doron uprightly sitting in the passenger's seat of the other car, as Adalard was laying on the backseat of the car with just his feet dangling out the side as a woman wrapped his feet with a cover. The woman that led Ed to the car commanded to another woman kneeling down in front of his feet, "Don't make skin to skin contact with him; just get the other covers around his legs and feet."

The woman at his feet pronounced as she unfolded a cover, "Oh, sweetie, you have a bad case of frostbite. The other two probably have some frostbite but they were wearing shoes; what happened to yours? Did you lose them in the snow?" She frowned when she realized Ed's eyes were closed and he was quaking and silently panting, "Sweetie, are you ok?"

Ed swallowed thorns, "Don' hurt me 'gain. Jus' don' put me in the cell."

The woman made a pained face, "I'll hurry up." The woman turned to one of the men, "Help me pull this around." She turned back to Ed, "Since you can't stand up, and I know you don't want to be touched, the best way is to use your elbows to lift up as much as possible." Ed held back his wail when he followed the directions and felt his bubbling, open shoulder crack. The woman swiftly pushed the cover underneath his arched back and used her other hand to pull it to the other side. Ed heard her yell to one of the men to help her pull the cover. The man opened the back door wider and took hold of the cover under Ed and they slowly pulled it completely under his waistline and legs. The man let go and backed up as the woman wound the loose part of the cover over the top of Ed's legs. That's when the woman noticed Ed's automail leg. She didn't mention it. "You can lay down now, sweetie." Ed's head lulled and he crashed onto his back only to pierce the sound barrier with a scream.

Adalard told the nearest Righteous that there was bone puncturing from his shoulder. _I guess we did have some sort of shelter from all that snow in there…and it melted on the ground from everybody moving around…_ The man relayed the message. The woman helping Ed sprang up and, though she felt traitorous for touching him, pulled Ed off the backseat as gently as she could. Expecting hysteria from her touch, the woman was surprised that Ed did not say anything. In fact, his eyelids didn't lightly flutter, his mouth loosely hung open, and his shivers had ceased. "Sweetie!" the woman dreaded what she may find to have happened. "Sarah! Something's happened!" The woman crawled out of the car to allow Sarah to steady herself on the edge of the seat and the floor beside Ed's body, still propping him up. Sarah frenziedly moved her index and middle finger around his neck, finding a feeble, erratic pulse. Then she frantically put her hand above his mouth. He wasn't breathing. "Sarah is he gone?"

"He has a pulse," Sarah informed the other woman. "But he's not breathing, Juliana." Then Sarah heard an extraordinarily pin drop breath. She put her hand back over Ed's mouth, "He's breathing again." Sarah pulled her hand back when Ed's ochroid eyes batted open but his alluring orbs closed again. His eyes repeated this sequence, "I think I know what's wrong." Sarah pulled Ed's chin towards her and examined his corneas, "I thought so- his pupils are dilated."

Juliana squatted beside the car's wheel with all the Righteous staring concernedly, "Is that good or bad?"

"Both," Sarah sanctioned. "He's not dead, but he will be if we don't take special care of him. He has severe hypothermia."

Juliana shot up to stand, "That metal!"

Sarah's eyebrows furrowed, "What?"

Juliana lifted the cover around his left leg and pointed to the unveiled automail as the woman that had led him to the car interjected, "He said this was a prosthetic! Who made it, heaven knows, but he has it!"

Adalard brusquely called out, "His arm is the same! His right arm is like that too!"

Juliana unbuckled the cover around Ed's torso, "He's right!" Juliana turned to the woman that had led him to the car, "Didn't you see this?"

"He had his other arm crossed over that parts that metal is exposed! And I thought his missing hand was just under his elbow!" the woman clarified. "Then I put the cover on him!"

Sarah interrupted, "That's already passed; we have other things to worry about. But that does explain why it's so severe compared to the other two's hypothermia, this metal must have increased his symptoms because it's so cold." Sarah touched Ed's automail and it chilled her hand, "Yeah, this is definitely a catalyst."

"Alright, what do we do, Sarah?" Juliana replaced the cover over his legs then picked up the free cover from the floorboard to wrap around Ed's bare feet after pulling the frozen tatters off his feet, also sensing the glacial prosthetic that made her shiver. That's when she noticed he was violently quivering again.

"Keep doing that, Jules," Sarah referred to encasing Ed's feet. "Frank," Sarah called over her shoulder, "go around to the other side and open the door!" Frank's footsteps crunched in the munificent precipitation. He swung the door wide and crawled in the other side. "Ok, I'm going to pull this shirt off; anything wet will just make him worse. Hold him up for me, be gentle, the other said he is badly injured."

Frank applied pressure to his neck and mid-back to support him, methodically lifting each extremity for Sarah to pull the shirt off. Cue Frank detecting the bone of Ed's shoulder, "His shoulder's fucked to hell, Sarah! He needs to lay on his right side."

Sarah clipped the covers back around Ed's disfigured torso, directing Frank to keep the cover from touching Ed's wound. "Let's turn him on his side like you said." They rolled Ed onto his right side, his face towards the back of the seat, "Do we have any covers left?"

Juliana gave thumbs up, "A couple." She circumvented the back door and got one of the beige covers from the passenger's seat and handed it behind the headrest to Sarah. Sarah wrapped the cover over the rest of Ed's body excluding his nose, his mouth, and his nasty shoulder wound. "Did you really have to cover up his head?"

"A lot of the heat loss would be through the head," Sarah bended over the end of the seat to get an unrushed examination of Ed's shoulder. "The poor thing. That had to be insufferable…just what the _hell_ do they do in those things?"

Frank quietly contributed, "It looks like torture to me. I wouldn't ask the other two about it. It seems pretty wretched."

Juliana put her hand over her mouth, "No wonder he doesn't want anyone to touch him."

Sarah was shaken up, "We need to stop somewhere as soon as possible and buy something warm to put under the covers with him. Once we get stopped, I'll pop his shoulder back into place."

One of the men reminded, "There may be more that escaped the train. We'll stay here until you come back; go on to meet Gerardus and Margarethe. Just leave me the last cover and if multiple come, I'll use my jacket. Besides there's only room for three other people with both the cars combined."

Two women and three men were left with the man that would stay behind. "We'll stay with him. We'll manage. I think we'd all give up our coats for a while. That man's in bad shape," a woman disclosed, "and we have to save him."

Juliana looked at Sarah, "We can send him and the others with Gerardus and Margarethe to keep them moving through the chain. We will get them to Strasbourg no matter what, Sarah. They deserve that at the least." Juliana hopped into the driver's seat in the black car Ed inhabited with Sarah in the passenger's in case further medical attention was needed, and Frank drove the ginger car with Adalard and Doron.

The black car hit a bump and shook Ed into consciousness again. He couldn't formulate coherent thoughts about where he was, what was happening, or what had happened to that point. Before he shot like a falling star into unconsciousness, he heard a sanguine and lovely whisper.

_I love you, Ed. Even if you don't come back to me, you better stay alive. I love you_.


	8. From the Grave

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do not own the manga/anime characters, plots, or creation.

**Bless My Body, Bless My Soul**

**By TheKennethAnger**

Chapter 8: From the Grave

**Beati pauperes spiritu**** - ****Blessed are the poor in spirit**

_Galeries Lafayette, France, February 24, 1942_

Over a month ago, members of the Righteous had pulled Al, Luminista, and Emilien out of fire and into a beige and rust-colored apartment building owned by a seemingly typical Frenchman- who just happened to have and to be stowing a Jewish grandmother. The three came to understand why they had to get to Galeries Lafayette: there was a sanctuary. Al scrabbled for one of the members that had escorted them and requested that if they found a man with the same color of eyes as him, to bring the man in and find him. The member gathered a few others to look at Al's eye color and relay the appeal. They commented that Al had very distinct, matchless eyes and they could uphold the request.

After weeks of Al dissolving in tears and of horrendous waiting, Ed lickety-split arrived in Galeries Lafayette.

Al couldn't stop eyeing the skyline, praying to whatever could possibly exist to bring mass connection amongst the universe for the arrival for his brother's shadow ghosting in the distance. He shed a few bitter tears each time he repeated this routine. Since his blonde hair would not drag attention from patrolling soldiers, he could sit in the front of the lobby, staring out the large glass panes with towering hopes. Al refused to leave the hotel, to leave Galeries Lafayette, until his brother made a grand entrance. Al would fall asleep curled up on the worn chair of the deserted lobby only when his eyelids were as heavy as lead during the night. Many a moon stole Al's presence from the room donated to Luminista, Emilien, and he upon arrival. Al would weakly concede that his castles in the air were plummeting. At the same time, he knew optimism would never run dry, no matter how long the wait for the brother fallen through the cracks would last.

His faith was compensated when he saw Ed being guided towards the unrefined hotel and saw gilt eyes identical to his own shining like the northern star through the blustery night. Al nearly tipped the cushioned chair behind him when he bounded towards the main door of the hotel the Righteous were leading Ed to. Al was on pins and needles with an anxious breath strangulating his esophagus until he was positive he was not imagining what he'd been waiting for day after day.

Soon enough, Al was facing Ed as the Righteous turned to once again brave the cold, all leaving with secret smiles at Al's pearly grin. However, upon further inspection of his older brother, Al's face fell in misunderstanding and worry. Ed was in a wasting, dumbfound state, but luckily in a hefty winter coat and a bulky hat, "Hey, Al."

"Ed…" Al boyishly stomped his foot, "For one, why didn't you get on that fucking train with me? Two, why weren't you right behind me? And…" Al faltered when Ed ashamedly looked away from him. "And…I'm sorry, I shouldn't be yelling at you. I've just been sick with turmoil and fear since we got separated and everything's just been building up." Al stepped forward to embrace Ed but the elder of the two took a step back, "Ed, I'm not _that_ mad; I'm not going to hit you or something like that." Ed didn't say anything for quite the while. "Ok…well, um…why don't you take that coat off and we'll go up to the room."

"I told you to go to Switzerland," Ed still stared opposite of Al.

Al's eyebrows furrowed as he leaned his upper body to try to see all of Ed's healing face, "I couldn't." Ed merely shook his head and walked past Al towards the elevator. Al trotted behind Ed, "We should get you some necessities from the desk. Stop for a second."

The building had been stock piled with extra garments in the maids' quarters and when Al blithely asked, the maids provided Ed firsthand clothes and suggested the new refugee shower and sleep. On the cross to the hotel room, Al kept an eyeful of all the wounds on his brother's face but decided to save it for another time as Ed impassively traveled beside him to the room and followed the maid's suggestion of a shower and some sleep with a vacant complexion, ignoring the silent stares of Luminista and Emilien sitting uneasily on opposite sides of the room.

The water waves from the shower pounded against Luminista's ears and only then she spoke, "He is…awfully banged up, Al."

Al stared at the cheap wood of the bathroom door and absentmindedly remarked, "Yeah, he is."

Afraid of Al becoming distressed, Luminista decided it best to quit while she was ahead. When Ed came out of the bathroom, his coat and hat were discarded on the floor and Al met a startling and perplexing sight. Ed cut his hair a little shorter of the length Al kept his as a child. He also noted Ed seemed significantly skinnier even with a loose long-sleeved plain white shirt and coffee colored polyester pants that normally would have fit perfectly. Upon survey, Al noted Ed's automail hand was gone. Ed crawled past Al into the bed, "I'm going to sleep for a while, ok? Just a little while."

"Sleep as long as you need, Ed, we aren't going to push you out of the bed or anything. You look exhausted anyway. Just recuperate tonight," Al soothed.

Within a matter of minutes, Ed fell asleep, unbeknownst to the living, under a heavyweight series of phantasms, under the hallucinations of the past. The hauntings screwed around his head trip like a noose around a sinner's neck. Unbeknownst to him, but to that of the living, Ed slept for the better part of three days. He didn't speak for those three days, even when he was awake to use the bathroom and get a drink of water. He simply lied back in the bed and fell back into wraiths.

Ed officially awoke for keeps by the fourth morning since his arrival. Emilien lay in the easy chair, conked out, and Luminista brewed coffee down the hall at the community kitchen for the third floor, still mulling over how Al had been convincing her to sleep on the bed next to him, (awkwardly) separating her and Ed, and she was still mulling over the state of Ed's condition.

"Ed," Alphonse whispered as he sat beside the full-sized brass plated bed that Ed lay on, cocooned in a sage duvet, "I couldn't sleep, not knowing where you were or what had happened, it was reaching my depths." In reality, Al had inferred what had happened; Alice's words restlessly recycled through his mind. He just didn't know what the extent of the damage would be. The fact Ed couldn't accept a hug was an ill-starred indication.

Ed mumbled, "I told you to go to Basel. Now all the trains are under surveillance and you can't get out of here."

Al's knuckles turned white as he closed his fist, "I don't care. I have to stay with you. And I'm going to reiterate that I'm upset you kept me on that train."

Ed's sunken eyes remained closed and he wormed further into the duvet, "_I_ don't care, Alphonse. If I didn't push you on that train, you would have… Looking back, if I had to shackle you by the neck to keep you on that train, I'd make sure it was securely."

Ed had only been with him limited days and there was a sense of a radiating, all-encompassing list of evident traumas and derangement that Al didn't want to exacerbate. Instead of countering Ed's shackle statement, Al went to merely straighten the sheets that had crinkled up on the side of the bed, causing a molecular ripple that barely touched Ed. To Al's surprise, Ed scampered opposite of Al towards the wall the bed was pushed against and covered his head with the duvet, as he protested, "Don't touch me."

Having slept for the past couple days in the full bed without much consciousness and/or awareness, Ed hadn't been cognizant enough to know Al had made physical contact to readjust Ed or his covers repeatedly. Therefore, Al was not in the knowing Ed couldn't mentally handle touch or that there were triggers to terrifying memories. So when Ed darted away from him, Al immediately hunched over the bed, "Ed, what's wrong? Did I graze a wound?" When Ed disregarded the question, Al planted his hand on Ed's arm, "Ed-"

Ed freaked out, "Please stop hurting me."

Al, unaware of Ed's unbearable instability, clawed the duvet from around Ed's head and upper body, "Ed, what's wrong?"

As Luminista opened the door and the noise rustled Emilien from his sleep, Al reached for Ed but the elder blonde roughly shoved Al away, "Don't touch me, goddamn it! Just shoot me; I'm not going into a cell!"

Al barely found the time to slam one of his feet onto the ground, his other knee still on the bed, before he toppled backwards and onto the green, red and blue dotted carpet stretched over the floor. "Ed! What are you talking about?" Ed rolled until he was facing the beige wall. When Ed's back and shoulders commenced wild inflation and deflation, Al realized that he was crying. Al had never seen Ed _cry_ so his brows furrowed and he let his knee slide off the bed in disbelief. "Ed, I'm not going to do whatever you're talking about." Luminista and Emilien stood frozen in their tracks and respiratory functions. Ed pulled the duvet over his upper body once more and took to silence. "Ed…what did I do?"

The ticking of the rococo bracket clock that hung on the wall behind Al was the only clamor in the small apartment until Ed's bitter tears dwindled. Ed trundled to face Al again. His eyes were inflamed, displaying his brighter than ever aurulent orbs, and he wiped his nose with his sleeve, "I'm sorry, Al. I just- just don't touch me. I can't…just don't."

Al frowned, "Ok, I won't, Ed. I'm sorry for upsetting you."

Ed's bottom, scabbed lip quivered, "It's not you, Al. It's them. It's what happened."

"What-"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Al backed off, "When you want to, I'll listen, Brother."

"I'm going to get some supplementary sleep, Al," Ed's eyelids sewed shut. "Just wake me up when you want to sleep."

"Ed, it's morning. You need to get up today. We need to start coming up with a plan of how to get to Basel without the access of trains," Al crossed his arms.

Luminista gently asserted, "I have that covered."

"You do?" Al responded.

"What? Can only the Elric brothers come up with plans?" Luminista cocked her hip.

"Of course not, Angel," Al somewhat mocked.

"I told you not to call me that," Luminista glowered through barred teeth.

Al smiled brightly, "You shouldn't have told me your middle name."

Ed groaned, "He's right, you shouldn't have. Al has a tendency to use secrets against their owners."

Al pouted, "You do too."

Ed sluggishly winched up on the forearm of his automail and proceeded to get off the bed, "I don't feel like arguing, Al." Ed didn't play witness to Al's shocked face. Al's deliberation was drawn away from his own shockwave and he leapt like a grasshopper to catch Ed after the elder blonde swayed and closely tripped to the ground. But Ed waved off any nearing hands, "I'm ok, just a bit dizzy, ya know? Probably too much sleep."

"Lay back down right now, Ed. I misjudged your strength at the time being. I'll listen to Angel and see where it goes. You just go back to sleep for a while," Al staunchly beseeched.

"Really, Al, I can get up. It's fine with me."

"It's not fine with me," Al took charge, "So lay back down. You're banged up, you've lost a part of your automail, I heard you sniffling in the bathroom, and you're obviously exhausted or you wouldn't be sleeping so much or stumbling around. So lay down or I'll feel the need to anatomize my self-condemnation, causing me depression."

"Al-"

"Nope. Shush. You're in the bed or you're out the window," Al vowed.

"Ok, Al."

"Good."

"Al," Ed summoned.

Al stood at the foot of the bed, "Do you need something?"

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Brother," Ed turned on his right side, his left arm still incredibly tender and in pain, then closed his fatigued eyes.

Al almost smiled.

_April 2, 1942, Ensisheim, France_

"Where, exactly, did you learn to do this?" Al whispered to Luminista from behind the rusty brick building that sheltered a deposit of trash and a corroding silver trash can with the contents being an uncontrolled fire from an unknown source.

Luminista thrust Al out of the revolting alley, "Stop asking me that. As long as it keeps working, it doesn't matter."

Al pushed up the sleeves of his white shirt. Swallowing desired conversation, Al casually walked down the street. The night entrenched in sprinkling rain proved to be a most useful distraction to the man leaving the bar, opening his navy umbrella. Al was nearly behind the man as his key entered the driver's door's coded lock. Without vocal intonation, but audible footsteps, Al slammed his fist into the man's head. The man's head bashed into the car window then he fell onto the sidewalk, his umbrella flying like a hair in the wind. With her auburn hair pulled into a tangled ponytail to ensure full visibility, Luminista ran on her bare feet to the lustrous car and bulldozed Al hard enough for him to stumble to the back wheel. Unlocking the driver's door, Luminista slung her hand around to pop the lock of the backseat up.

Before jumping into the vehicle, she turned to liquid and stooped to roll the man over. Patting him down, she procured his wallet and slammed the fluttering car door closed. With Al already steady in the backseat, Luminista yanked the shift and drove away from the curb only to circle in a U-turn, stopping on the sidewalk precisely in front of the alley Emilien and Ed was residing in. With the passenger's side doors a couple steps away, the waiting men swung into the car without losing time. Luminista's shoeless foot energetically stomped the gas pedal, the wheels spinning before the car reeled forward, and avoided the lanky lamppost a few feet ahead on the sidewalk. She sped beyond the man, who was just hauling himself off the pavement, without a guilt-ridden sentiment plaguing her.

Luminista drove a few blocks, running all stopping areas, and unexpectedly veered into the brush on the side of the street. Al clutched onto the back of her seat to hold from drumming around the car like a maraca, "What are you doing?"

Luminista explained over the racket of the windshield wipers and the bustling noise from the rocks and foliage, "I told you: stop asking questions! If it isn't broken, don't fix it!"

Emilien defended Al, "Your broken is obviously different from our broken!"

"You'll thank me when the police trail us!" Luminista warned.

"We're going downhill through a forest at nighttime in case you haven't noticed! I don't think they'll find us!" Emilien's braced himself against the dashboard and door handle.

"It's called tire marks and it's raining! I promise that'll leave an impression!" Luminista refuted.

Al added, "We took a car, Angel, we didn't murder three little girls, do witchcraft on their bodies, and parade around town in their dresses! They won't follow us for this!"

"Darlin'," Luminista dodged trees left and right, "I've been to enough small towns like this to know that cops don't see much action and they'll latch onto anything offering excitement!" She drove onto a trail of sludge and slammed the brakes to swerve the car to track the pathway.

Al contradicted, "I think you're being paranoid! They are _not_ going to come after us!"

"Al," Ed gently caught his brother's attention.

"Is something wrong? Are you ok?" Al gripped onto the back of his seat as to look at Ed, hoping Ed hadn't been triggered into his volatile headspace by something going on.

Ed clasped the passenger's seat in front of him so he could rotate to use the elbow of his ruined automail to indicate there was an event going on behind the car. Al blinked, "No fucking way." He admitted, "I feel like an idiot when I say there's flashing lights that just started driving down the hill!"

Luminista bizarrely didn't express a smartass quip to which Al had fondly become accustomed, "They can get off my dick."

"I have a feeling you may kill us!" Emilien voiced.

To this reference, her systematic attitude returned, "Oh, come on, _uncle_, live a little!"

"Putting yourself in a situation that death could be a result is not living!" Emilien closed his eyes when he suspected she was about to hit a tree when the car had a miniature mudslide from the muddy trail Luminista was still rumbling on. "Did my brother teach you all this? Because if he did, he _obviously_ didn't inform you that there's a difference between living and dying!"

"I'm aware!" Luminista affirmed, looking through her rearview mirror to guesstimate if the lights were significantly closer, "I also differentiate the respective aftereffects of both! In fact, it's one out of my two mottos! Live and learn or die and burn!"

Al called from behind her, "How pleasant! But in case we do die, tell me what your other motto is!"

"Lead, follow, or get out of the way!"

A scarce sum of seconds elapsed before Luminista grinded against a boulder secreted by dampened brush, skidding over craters in the pathway. The four fugitives rapidly became in-flight above the black faux leather seats. The nostalgia of the train derailing swept like high tide in the ocean of Ed's mind. The moment Ed went airborne because of the trail's craters, his mind's eye struck faster than the speed of light. Ed's jaw locked and his muscles went inflexible. His eyes taped up when an inaudible whimper degenerated in the top of his throat. The memory forced him to wrap his aching flesh arm, his joints still realigning, around the seat Emilien was bouncing around in and he shove his face into his forearm, it being the opposite way of Al. His emotions caught fire hotter when Luminista spun the wheel like a spin top, slinging all in the car, reminding him of the derailment more so. She then began pumping the brakes.

Every uneasy gasp escaping everyone's lips were amplified once the car came to a skimming halt. Al didn't notice Ed's mortification when he leaned past the back of the driver's seat to speak right beside Luminista's ear, "Now we're stuck between policemen and a creek. Why didn't you stay on the roads? Now we don't even know what direction we should be going."

"Thanks for the applause," Luminista shifted the gear lower. "Sit your ass back down, ingrate." Luminista looked over her shoulder, noting that the flashing lights of the eager police cars were nearly half way down the wooded hill. She directed the wheels towards the undulating water and smoothly lifted her foot from the brake.

Al panicked, "Angel! What are you doing? You're driving us into water!"

"I'm aware," was Luminista's casual reply.

"Is this going to accomplish anything but drowning us?" Emilien squeezed his seat to transfer dismay from his fingertips into the support of his body.

Luminista sighed, "I know what I'm doing. So shut the hell up." She let go of the brake and the car's wheels rolled into the creek. Ed hung around in never-never land, ignoring the entire state around him. Al winced at the decibel level of the high-pitched shriek that exploded like a canon from Emilien's mouth. Luminista laughed, "I'll be all over that in the future, Emilien."

The tires, tread wearing thin, scudded in the water of the creek as Luminista cruised downstream, "Dammit, Angel! I'm not sure we should be-"

"Al, cool out and trust me; I've done this before," Luminista slowly steered the vehicle towards the opposite bank of the creek they embarked.

"That doesn't surprise me," Al watched her calloused hands' movements as she fused the wheels onto the land. Luminista pulled onto the muddy bank and motored into the depths of the copses, disappearing into the shadows. "They may cross it like you just did."

"No they won't. They'll think we ran into it and shipwrecked somewhere downstream. We'll be _long_ gone by the time they get the picture we didn't," Luminista inhaled fiercely then gusted out the breath.

"You're lucky the water wasn't less shallow," Emilien reasoned, wiping his forehead to rid the sheet of amassed sweat.

Luminista idly pondered, "Oh, auspicious indeed."

Al noticed her nonchalance, "So that's what you were doing when you 'went to find a specimen for car stealdom'. Measuring the creek is elaborate work, Angel."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Al," Luminista said without an ounce of outward pride, though her smirking conscience was bleeding it.

"You figured out where to get out of it too," Al grinned. "Even more extravagant than I thought, aren't you?"

"Really, Al, you're reading way too much into this," Luminista yawned. "I winged it. It's the Roma way."

"Where are we going next?" Emilien jumped in.

"Mudhouse," Luminista speedily glanced at her relative after getting on a rocky road. "Then we'll head to Sierentz and go from there. It's the fastest route to Basel," Luminista illuminated. "Those two destinations are the best directors to Basel. We shouldn't have an issue if we follow that route."

"Let's hope we can get there," Emilien's muscles finally unclenched and he relaxed into the seat.

Luminista cackled, "You're scream was priceless by the way, Emilien!"

All the blood rushed to Emilien's head, "I thought we were going to go under!"

Her teasing continued and Al snickered at them before noticing Ed's left hand twisted into his polyester pants. Al took a better look at Ed's wired-shut eyes and stuck down lips. The Roma occupying the front of the hijacked car hushed to a chummy banter, Emilien flicking on the radio to find a weather report. When conversation between Emilien and Luminista overtook the car, Al bent forward so Ed could have a full view of him the instant he opened his dread painted eyes, "Ed…"

Ed pushed his bangs back and broke open his eyes slightly, "Just give me a minute, Al."

"As long as you need," Al cooed.

Up front Emilien asked a natural query, "When did you become a master of thievery?"

"Five finger discounts can be used by anyone willing to try. I've purely willed it often in the past," Luminista turned down a derelict highway.

"Obviously. You seem to know how to teach people to steal wallets, purses, gasoline, food, and cars. I still can't believe how you've been getting Al to go along with knocking people out for their automobiles," Emilien closed his eyes.

Luminista sighed, "Unfortunately he's too sweet to hit women."

Emilien exaggeratedly scoffed, "Why is him not hitting women unfortunate?"

"Because I hate punching people; it hurts my knuckles."

"Doesn't seem to stop you."

"Somebody has to do it," Luminista flapped her hand in the air as if she were talking animatedly with it. "Hitting chicks may bother you guys, but it doesn't me. All's fair in love and grand theft auto."

"Such law abiding advice," Al chimed in since he caught on his brother didn't want to talk.

"A life lesson learned, I pray. You'd be surprised what kind of luxuries you can get when you're a kleptomaniac," Luminista claimed.

"That's certainly been called to my attention," Al chuckled as he looked through the rearview mirror at Luminista's stunning emerald eyes. "I must say your recent taking to kleptomania is providing progress."

"Recent?" Luminista failed miserably to kill a grin. "Sure. I like that adjective."

Al clowned, "I've fallen in love with a menace."

"Eat your heart out," Luminista pushed loose strands of hair behind her ear and shuddered.

"Are you cold?" Al enquired concernedly.

"No," Luminista ironically asserted, "I'm shivering for love of the sport."

Al shrugged off his decolorizing coat, "I told you it still gets too chilly at night to have thrown your blazer away."

"I hated it," Luminista peered down at her sleeveless russet camisole. "I'm just not used to wearing such constricting clothing."

"And now you're cold. Which was the lesser of two evils?" Al circumvented the smooth leather seat to dress the coat over his aficionada's somewhat broad shoulders.

"A little bit of cold weather isn't evil, but thanks for the coat anyway. I'm glad you're a goliath," Luminista pointed out.

"Why's that?" Al chuckled then looked at Ed's still shook up form to make sure he wasn't having another panic attack.

But Luminista's mumble made Al snap his head to look at her emerald globes in the glistening mirror, "I'm not exactly petite."

"Luminista, come on, don't be stupid," Emilien lurched forward after his eyes unscrewed.

Luminista offered a small smile, "You don't have to lie, Emilien, I know I'm big enough to be a man."

"No, you're definitely not," Al assured.

Luminista brightened up further, "Appreciate it, Al, but you don't have to deny it. It's not like it upsets me; I don't need reassurance. I just meant that I'm tall and big-boned. I promise, it doesn't faze my psyche." Luminista moved her forearm in a sideswipe as her fingers snapped with defiance, "Bodacious is beautiful. No words or insecurities will eradicate that fact in my mind."

Al light-heartedly smirked, "I must say, you are beautiful."

Emilien slapped his hand over his awkward expression, "She's my niece and she's driving, please don't start making out."

Al and Luminista snorted tailed by Ed's unforeseen intermission, "How much money have we saved up?"

Al turned in his seat, "Not a precise calculation, but I'd say well over a thousand. Since we've just moved from car to car and bummed gas and food, Angel's filched enough wallets and purses to collect enough money to last us a while in Basel. Any particular reason you asked?"

Ed shook his head and sunk his temple against the structure of the car, "No."

Al slipped on a vexed expression, "Ok." Not wanting to poke at Ed's line of thinking, Al cleared his throat, "So, um, Angel, just how often do you spontaneously burgle?"

Picking up that Al was sidetracking attention from Ed's odd probe, she scrappily replied, "You see, I just…have a problem, kind of."

"Kind of?" Emilien deliberately rotated his head with raised eyebrows.

Luminista scratched the back of her head accompanied with a cockeyed grin, "I _kind of_ stole your rabbit's foot, Emilien."

Emilien patted himself down and tapered his eyes when he was done, "When did you do that?"

"Two or three weeks ago," Luminista dodged road kill on the public road.

"What else have you taken?" Al oppressed a wide smile, expecting something of his to be named.

Luminista quivered a second time, "From you? Nothing really. But I took a lot from the girls we roamed with."

"How much did you take?" Emilien crossed his arms.

"A couple things from each one of them…" Luminista recalled.

"Luminista!" Emilien fatherly scolded, "So that's why they all kept losing things! You know, they were upset for losing their belongings!"

"I get it, I get it. But I was born with sticky fingers," Luminista rearranged Al's coat. "God, Al, I don't understand how you wear this all the time, it's awfully thick. I might be getting overheated now."

"Force of habit," Al disregarded crassly. "Don't try to change the subject again. I haven't seen you with any of their possessions at any point. Where'd you stow them?"

"I didn't _stow_ them. I tossed 'em," Luminista shrugged.

"Why did you steal them if you didn't want to keep them?" Emilien demanded.

"For the same reason anybody does anything: because I wanted to, because I could," Luminista explained.

"I think the correct explanation would be: because I'm a criminal," Emilien groaned. "You really are a klepto."

"I stole a harpe sword _and_ a cutlass sword _and_ a gladius sword and black steel brass knuckles and a gold pendant with an emerald attached on the bottom _and _an antimony Lorraine cross in Spain. And they were all from one emporium. And they were all in glass cases. Like I said, I have a problem," Luminista sighed.

"I don't believe you. There's no way you got all of those items out of one store, particularly encased ones," Emilien rubbed his temples.

"Believe what you will," Luminista conceded.

Al's suspended mouth in eventually formed words, "What'd you do with all that after you had it? Sell it?"

Luminista shrugged, "No, I tossed them in a river."

Al stared at Luminista's pitiless countenance with his contrasting innocent, bemused eyes, "Why?"

"Because I could."

Emilien tripped into a chasm of realization, "Hey! Give me my rabbit's foot!"

"Don't have it," Luminista reticently grinned at him.

"You. Are. Ridiculous. How could you do that to your own uncle?" Emilien cried.

"I do have a diagnosed problem, ya know," Luminista defended herself.

Emilien put his forehead in his hand, "I can't accept as true those words just came from your mouth. Kleptomania isn't precisely a diagnosable disease."

"Technically it's a mood disorder, but that's not the point. I wasn't diagnosed with kleptomania," Luminista caught the road signs guiding her to Mudhouse.

Al chimed, "What are you diagnosed with?"

"Pseudologia fantastica."

Al squinted his aurous eyes, "The prefixes of those words indicate you're saying you're a pathological liar."

"Ironic, isn't it?" Luminista looked through her rearview at her ambivalent infatuate. "That I lied just now about being a compulsive liar? No, as you gentlemen know, before Ape Adolf came into the ever-increasing unsettling picture of my life, I lived in England. Well, my _roots_ were in England. Before I started traveling, when I was sixteen, I did something upsetting and my mum sought help from her friend that was a therapist. She made the diagnosis I have borderline personality disorder. So here I am."

"Therapist?" Al tapped his chin. "In Amestris, we aren't knowledgeable with that psychiatric disorder."

"Not many people in this world are either. I definitely wasn't," Luminista assured.

"What did you do?" Emilien inquired with an immobilized face. "That was upsetting I mean."

Luminista informally informed, "I almost killed myself."

Ed's interest looped around her admission like kudzu, his fingers quaking and his mouth drying out. She spoke as though it were an unremarkable occurrence. He thought of how common it was with the prisoners in Dachau, about observing innumerable suicides, him near the stark resolution himself. Ed couldn't help the sentiment that he wasn't sure he could give the nod for his brother to be fascinated with someone so blasé about such a bare-boned arbitration like suicide.

"Stop the car."

Luminista didn't consider any alternative, obeying Ed's command. Determining no other cars were out that late at night, she came to an even halt in the middle of the road, "Look, Ed, I'm not going to run us off a cliff or so-"

Her oath was scratched short when Ed scrambled for the handle and slingshot from the vehicle. His wobbly feet slapped the wet road and he banged the door shut. He dry sobbed a couple times before slipping down the rain-enameled door, disregarding the misting coolness leaching through to his coated back. He pushed back the hat he wore out of dislike of his short hair and laid his forehead on his boney knees the minute he drew his legs into himself. As anticipated, Al joined him not long after he settled. Al sat nearly shoulder to shoulder with him and sighed a trifling puff of air, "Tell me what's happening, Ed."

"I don't want you with her," Ed avowed.

"What?" Al was taken aback.

Ed repeated, "I said I don't want you with her."

"What are you talking about?" Al's eyebrows bowed and he orbited his body towards Ed.

Ed elaborated, "She acts like ending her life by her own hand is _casual_. Is something that shouldn't require much thought, doesn't take intense reasoning."

Al whispered, "Ed, you can't make that verdict. She has a psychosomatic condition, and even if she didn't, you weren't in her head. You don't know how laboriously she could have thought about it or if she reasoned there was no substitute otherwise worth taking. And I know why you're presuming that. But just because she can talk about it casually doesn't mean she sees it casually. I can casually talk to you about losing my body, but that doesn't mean I see it as such."

"Luminista!" Emilien opened the car door and took off running around the anterior of the car.

Ed and Al looked at each other and Al clambered to his feet. Al circumnavigated behind the car and saw the driver's door wide open and saw the silhouette Emilien was pursuing down the side of the road. Al strode the length of the car and pitched over his shoulder, "I'll be right back, Ed, don't move!" He assumed a jog to reach the moving relatives. Nudging past Emilien, Al guaranteed, "I've got it, Emilien. You go stay with Ed." Emilien, somewhat pleased he didn't have to deal with his bellicose niece, reversed his steps to go back to the car. Al caught Luminista's shoulder and hassled in front of her to clutch both shoulders, "Hey, what are you doing?"

Luminista grabbed one of his tensed forearms, "I'm not going to be the one to cause a rift between you and your brother, Al. It's not that big a deal; I'll get to Basel on my own."

"No, you won't. You're coming with me," Al confirmed, his vivid amber eyes penetrating her emerald green ones for the truth. "Did you think I'd just let you walk away from me?"

"I said I'll get to Basel on my own," Luminista repeated. She tried to walk past Al, but he walled her waist with his arm and reeled her into his chest when he angled his body towards her, "Al! I said it's not that big of a deal!"

Luminista struggled to duck out but Al's constraint stiffened around her waist and he wound his arm around her neck to further constrict her into his body, "Stop, stop, stop, stop. Ed and I are fine, Angel. Something has just linked him back to the camp."

Luminista muffled into his clavicle while her hands dangled limply at her sides, "We aren't even sure he was in a camp; he hasn't said anything."

"I know Ed. When he doesn't tell me something, it's because it's really bad and he doesn't think I should be exposed to it. And from what we've heard about the camps, everything adds up with the state he's in," Al sighed into her snarled auburn locks. "He is having a time telling the difference between reality and recollection."

"I didn't impulsively or even voluntarily reach the choice to kill myself," Luminista clarified.

"I trust that," Al hummed. After scarce moments of embracement, Al reasoned, "Come back to the car with me. We'll talk to Ed." Al coerced Luminista back to their getaway car and he addressed the crew, "We have to keep moving. Emilien, up front with me, I'm driving." He gestured to Ed and Luminista, "Get in the back; this won't be a cloud hanging over us."

Al plopped into the driver's seat and revived the engine once more; meanwhile the passengers scooted into the car. Emilien's lips were airtight in a line, unaware of what to expect. Luminista and Ed were sited on opposite sides of the backseat, she watching the outline of his face as he stared out the steamed window. "Al's right, sorry, Luminista. It just brought up some things," Ed softly offered without looking at the twenty-one year old gypsy.

"I don't mind, that's the way the human brain mechanizes. One thing makes us all think of another," Luminista solaced. "I just don't want you and Al to be at odds. May I explain?" Emilien and Al's ears perked up while Ed only nodded with a dog-tired frown, "I said I almost killed myself. But I didn't get to say that it wasn't intentional. I didn't _try_ to kill myself, it was an accident." Luminista relaxed against the corner, positioned half on the secured door, half on the squeaking leather material, "Goddamn it, Emilien…I never wanted to tell you any of this, but I guess I walked right into it of my own freewill, huh?" Luminista scratched the side of her head and sighed like a teapot churning out steam, "Let's start at the beginning. Carianne, that's the therapist that diagnosed me, said the borderline could have resulted from…from…the abuse from my father."

Emilien's neck nearly broke as his head popped back at her, "Crist _what_?"

Luminista's eyes padlocked closed, "You heard me, Emilien. Don't wanna accept it? Hold your ears for the rest of it." Al's knuckles were white from the sweaty grip on the steering wheel alongside his teeth becoming sandpaper against each other. Ed suctioned his lips together and felt his heart imbibed into quicksand. "He punched me and slapped me a lot, ya know, typical abuse kind of shit with the bruises and a couple fractures. Very hypercritical of me, he was, liked to degrade and humiliate me, that type of thing. Choked me out a few times…" Luminista's voice faltered as to swallow the barbed wire in her throat, "So, the thing that Carianne thought really roiled the borderline personality in me was the, uh, the-" Luminista recurrently circled her hand in the air, as though it were trundling the thoughts in her head to the tip of her tongue, "-sexual abuse thing. I don't think I'll much get into the details of that but, uh…uh, it caused a lot of problems to pile on top of me. A little bit of self-blame, ya know, some flashbacks sometimes… Some depression, can't stand the smell of lemons because of-of something he would do, there were some eating problems at one point, used to have a lot of self-esteem issues but resolved them after I met people, have done things on my own. Um-"

"Luminista-" Emilien endeavored to intersect with a suffering voice.

"Hold up, I said I'm going to explain and that's what I'm doing," Luminista pushed her hair back, her eyes never seeing past her eyelids. "Anyway, so it had been a few years, about three, after Mum got me away from Crist before I talked to Carianne. So I kept having, as Carianne put it, 'symptoms' of borderline during the three years after I got away from him and a little bit after the three year mark, Mum got me to Carianne." Luminista pulled on of her knees to balance in her zippered fingers, "Mum left when I was about nine. When she was home, Crist acted completely normal, like a normal man, a normal father… She didn't have a problem with us, she just wanted to travel for a while with a group because she hadn't done it in years and old friends invited her. So when I was nine, she left me with him and he _completely changed_. And all that abuse happened and Mum finally got back to England after four years and she came home and when she did, I didn't have that, 'oh, I'm afraid he'll kill me if I tell' mentality, I ran straight into her arms and told her _everything_. So she took me in our apartment and told me to get my stuff and she went in the kitchen and waited for Crist to come home from his job at the market. When I came out with my belongings, she told me to go to Adam's, he was an American friend of hers that lived down the block, so I ran there and waited on her to come get me."

One of the front tires dipped into a pothole in the road (which an overwrought Al failed to avoid), swaying the driver and passengers, causing Luminista to momentarily cease. But she recovered with another clearing of her throat, "So I told Adam what was happening. Of course, he asked me why I hadn't come to him and I told him that I went to the police and they said they'd come to the house but they never did. And I knew Mum would know what to do without the police when she came home. He told me I still should've come to him but I said I was extremely embarrassed all that shit had been happening. I remember he had a really upset expression and then I heard Mum banging on the door. She came in and hugged Adam and told him 'this is our final goodbye' and she took my hand and we walked to the brook a couple miles outside of town and took off our shoes and held up our dresses and crossed it and kept going until we hit another town and got on a train.

"She apparently had left some stuff in Ipswich with a man she took up with. He was really nice but I didn't trust him. I think I just _couldn't_ trust him, ya know? So we went there. I was only thirteen and I didn't really know what she did to Crist until later. See, she asked me a few months later why he had had a black eye and I told her I had clocked him. Remember," Luminista miserably chuckled, "I am not exactly small, even at that age I wasn't. I think she got gratification out of that. As the conversation drudged on, I grasped that she had stabbed him to death. So the guy from Ipswich, my mum, and I were on the move after that. The three years I went off the deep end happened while we were fugitives. Well, theoretically, Mum was the outlaw.

"I got vacuumed into a whirlwind of vagueness and rage and rebellion," Luminista sensed the men's eyes upon her, she felt her dignity torn apart like a carcass among lions, but her voice still remained placidly collected, still _casual_, she heard the word Ed had insisted on when she eavesdropped earlier. "I swear I was a different person every single fucking day. I'd started pocketing on a whim, not only things I mentioned before, but I stole paraphernalia I would use too, like, cigarettes and dresses and alcohol, particularly wine. Sometimes I'd get caught red-handed and if I did I beat up whoever lassoed me and cut out. We'd stay for about a month every place we went, and I went through a couple of boyfriends or a couple of girlfriends wherever we'd end up. Won't fake, when I was fifteen I started sleeping with whoever my boyfriends or girlfriends were.

"I'd make friends then pick melodramatic fights with them, sometimes after we fought, I'd raid their houses when they weren't home and wreck up the place, smash the windows out, totally sabotage it. But I always felt so…so _bored_. I didn't think anyone could perchance fathom what I felt. I don't know, I hypothesize I just didn't know who I _was_. I didn't think any of those boys or girls, or even my mum, gave me any provision for whoever I was. Carianne said that's a big part of borderline, confusion of identity.

"But I ignored my opinion of the support, rather lack thereof, because I was afraid to be alone, I couldn't handle isolation or any denunciation. I got irate if things didn't go as I sought after it to, as I planned it to. I just…I really put my mum through hell." Luminista sighed, "She was the only person I really trusted. She was the only one I knew would do anything for me, but when she'd try to put reigns on me or punish me, I'd start screaming that she didn't care about me and I'd kill myself and that she was trying to control me like Crist did.

"I was almost seventeen when Mum met up with Carianne near Liverpool. I didn't want to talk to her at first, I thought she was just another head trying to tell me what to do and, I remember always thinking, she was 'trying to suck me dry'. But Mum locked me in a room with Carianne for about two hours every day. After about two weeks, I cracked and spilled my guts. So for the next three weeks, all I did was tell _all _about my albatrosses and heartaches and oppressions and yadda-yadda.

"Carianne asked me if I wanted to take Vicodin when Mum and I were about to leave. Apparently it was an opioid that was actually made in Germany twenty sum years ago and, in England, you could buy it over the counter at the time. I asked her what it was and she just said, 'oh, it'll help you relax, it'll help you relax. If you're in any pain or unsettlement, it'll help you relax.' So I said sign me up."

Luminista bit her lip for a couple seconds before resuming, "So Carianne bought a few bottles and gave me it to travel with. No surprise, I abused it. I had a combined ninety pills in the three bottles Carianne gave me. I only had twelve pills left after one month and a half. And one day, I was so pissed off. At everyone. At everything. I had a headache, I fucked up my knee when I climbed the side of a cove that day, I had punched my girlfriend in the jaw, Mum had been lecturing me, I broke my lighter. It was really stupid shit that, now, I look back on and think 'what the hell were you so mad about?' Anyway, I decided I wanted to sleep my troubles away and I wanted to _relax_. So I took seven pills. And I almost killed myself. I overdosed and, thank God, Mum got me to puke about three times and she knew what to do. So…I guess I lucked out."

Luminista smiled despite herself as her eyes pried open. Ed was staring directly at her, much to her discomfort. Then she caught a glimpse of Al's burning eyes through the rearview mirror as he watched the road. Most discerning, however, was her uncle's stare. She locked eyes with him, "There's nothing left to say. I have a problem. It's still there, but I am an uncompromising governor over it. Mum left the country because she was sick of running. She just wanted to slow down in Ireland and live with Ipswich boy and just pass the bridge over troubled waters then burn it. I'm just grateful that before she did, we had made up and she knew how repentant I was and how much I love her. We hugged for the longest time… Then she went her way and I went mine. So I set off and toured every strip of land I could kiss my feet with. And I found out who I am and what I am capable of and how resilient I am and I don't need anybody supporting me, but I still found untold amounts of people who did support me. Here I am now, with the toughest people I could've found on the face of the planet. I think I've restrained my past pretty well. There's just nothing left to say, Emilien."

Emilien retained his hard expression and glistening eyes didn't simmer down from their uproarious state. The five o'clock shadow on his jaw cast a darkness over his features that made his aging face seem more aged than usual and his fingers hollowed out the seat's leather. Blow after blow of pessimism knocked into Emilien's spirit. His brother was dead. His brother had been murdered by his own wife. His brother was a rapist, a child molester, a fiend. His brother left a colophon of turmoil on his niece. Emilien didn't know if he should be chocked-full with sorrow at the loss of his brother or revel in relief from the fairness. "It's been twenty-five years."

Luminista cocked her head at Emilien, "Since what?"

"Since I've wanted a goddamn cigarette."

_May 27, 1942, Dublith, Amestris_

Winry catapulted from the land of Nod. She heaved as though a dumbbell weighed on her chest and her eyes burned like an assailant's thumbs had just been removed from the sockets. She registered the encompassing laughter of Mason and Izumi along with Emile's gleeful squeaks from the front of the butcher shop. Her eyes coasted to the shade Izumi hung over the window seal to accommodate her need for sleep. Sunbeams illuminated the sewn fibers of the chartreuse curtain. Instead of joining the front room of playfulness, she opted to remain reclined in Sig's easy chair hidden in the back room of the shop. Her dream paraded in her mirror of the mind and her urge to vomit was being suppressed by a hair's breadth. The discussions from the dream kept reeling through her head. She kept hearing his imploring voice. _If you love me, please help me. I need you, Win, don't you need me?_ An unpremeditated sob sounded like a siren through the chamber as she gaped at the ceiling, longing milking from her eyes.

Not long after, Izumi had taken Emile from Sig, who'd been trying to keep the child's hands out of the raw, squishy meat only to be squeakily laughed at, and bounded towards the sob, "Winry? Are you alright? Another dream?"

Winry smeared on a weathering face to take hold of her son as he reached for her, fingers curling and uncurling. The blonde mother did not answer Izumi when she sat Indian-style on the easy chair and laid Emile's torso and blonde-haired head against the thigh of one of her bent legs. Emile rested against his mother and seized her index and middle fingers of her right hand, "Mama."

Winry attempted to keep a neutral face with waterworks coursing down her blushed cheeks, "Yes I am your mama, aren't I, Angel Bird?" She traced his brow bone with her free index finger, "You're just what I needed right now, you know that? I love you, Emile." Winry cupped the one-year old's pale cheek, "I love you so much."

"Love, Mama."

Winry sniffled, "I'm glad we're on the same page." Her neutrality rinsed off her face without much effort and she sobbed again. She scooped Emile off her thigh and tugged him over top her chest as she tilted back into the pastel indigo and white chair. Winry supported Emile's head with her rickety hand, "Daddy loves you too, ok?"

Izumi crossed her arms, donning a crushed look, as Emile bumbled, "Love, Dada."

Winry smiled glumly, "He'd moon over that, Angel Bird."

Izumi repressed any comments, returned to the front room with a shake of the head to Sig and Mason, then patiently left Winry to her own devices. Hours elapsed and Winry never came out of the dimness of the back room. After dusk was quickly impending, Izumi re-entered the back of the shop to locate a sleeping baby curled into his slumbering mother's chest. Izumi closed the door, its whining hinges inadvertently howling, and addressed Sig, "They're asleep. We should leave them be for the night."

"Want to explain what we heard earlier?" Sig commenced cleaning the dirty knives in the silver stainless steel sink.

"I think Winry's cracking up, dear. Emile is the only thing that's safeguarding her from delirium," Izumi gave the word.

"I'm worried, Izumi. Ed's leave has just about destroyed her," Sig scrubbed the rare, bloody meat from the acuminated blades. "It seems like every time we find her alone, she's sobbing for Ed and Al. That's too much weight on any one person."

"Winry will make hash of her bones before she lets the weight break her down. I'm just worried it'll be very painful for her before it gets any better."

_Don't you love me, Winry? Help me! Why won't you help me?_ Winry's eyes unbuttoned and she became intensely aware of her son's breath ghosting over her arm, "I can't _stand_ this." Winry lurched forward, securing Emile against her chest, and began pacing.

"Mama," Emile roused from his dreamland. "Doing?"

"Mama can't get any sleepy time," Winry patted Emile's back.

"I sleepy time. I sleepy. Down," Emile pressed.

Emile's demand made her heart swell, "Ok, pushy Daddy's mini-me."

Winry swung Emile onto her hip to arrange the ancient throw from the back of the easy chair into a nest on the bottom cushion. She delicately deposited Emile onto the makeshift bed. She kissed his nose and took her exit from the room when the shrill admission met her eardrums, "Love, Mama."

Winry stopped the door mid-swing, "I love you too, Angel Bird." Winry sledged to the check-out counter of the Curtis' closed shop and plucked up their phone. Postured behind the counter on the black foam doormat spread over the floor aligned with the register, Winry scooped up the phone and habitually dialed. Winry didn't have to hear Riza's voice to know she picked up after the fourth ring, "What're you doing?"

Riza rasped, "Well, it's two in the morning. I'll give you a guess."

"I mean what are you doing with this vanishing act. Eleven months, Riza! Are you coming home or not?" Winry opined.

"I don't know, Winry," Riza eventually disclosed.

"You're not coming back, are you? Just fucking tell me already! You've been dragging this answer out for a year and I'm sick of pushing you for responses! So fucking tell me!" Winry demanded.

Riza interceded, "What is your problem? How is-"

"If Ed could tell me the truth, why can't you?" Winry sniffled.

"Winry…look, I honestly have no idea. I mean…I like Xing; it's nice. And nothing like Amestris. It's so docile and serene among the masses. The closest there is to war here is the clans clamoring over coronation."

"Just admit the actual reason, Riza," Winry groaned, worn-out of playing charades. "I already know what it is, and I want you to acknowledge it so you can overcome it and get your ass back here."

"That is the real reason goddamn it," Riza too grew exasperated.

"You just don't want to face him. Is that it?" Winry urged as she spiraled the telephone cord around her skinny fingers.

"No," Riza fisted her untidy tresses as the form in the bed next to her rolled onto his stomach.

"No, that's not the reason or no, I can't face him?" Riza resisted from telling the truth, gifting only a grunt. Winry pushed, "Riza, I know you miss him."

"Fine! Yes, I miss him," Riza came clean. "Badly. Fuck it. More than _anything_. But I have a new life here, Winry," Riza looked at the slumbering frame on the other side of her bed, "And I like it. I love it."

"But Xing doesn't have Roy," Winry silver-tongued. Riza attempted to disagree but Winry made no room for objections, "I _know_ you're in love with him, Riza. After all this time we've gotten close, it's so obvious. That's why you couldn't stop picking him up; that's why you always babied and nursed him; and I know you weren't the first to bring him up this time, but that's why every time we talk, you talk about him at one point or another."

Riza bemoaned, "No, Winry, that's not it. I love Roy but I am not in lo-"

"You _just said _you miss him! You just said it! You just said you miss him more than anything and that you love him!" Winry fired up.

"Winry-" Riza was once again muzzled by Winry's bitter, expressively charged battering.

"You _miss_ him and you _love_ him and you have a chance to _get back_ to him! Do you know what I'd sacrifice to get to be able to get to Al and Ed?" A dismayed sob shot through the line, "I'd give up my business; I'd give up making automail; I'd give up my vision; I'd give up an organ; I'd give any price I'd have to pay, except for my son! So are you really going to sit here and tell me you miss Roy as much as _I_ miss Al and Ed but you're not giving up whatever you have found to get to him? How can you say that to me?"

Riza's voice breaks, "I'm not trying to agitate or cross you, Winry." For the first time in the wide span of knowing Riza, Winry heard her cry, "But you're right. I'm sorry. I'm just trying to come to terms with something life-changing that's happened to me here."

A bonfire of guilt burned Winry up, "I didn't mean to yell, Riza; I shouldn't have yelled. I'm coming down on you for no reason. The past few nights have just been grinding on my emotional gears."

"No, you're right," Riza reassured. "I just need to…fully understand what's happened, what I've been hit with."

"Riza, you can confide you're in love with Roy, I won't-" Winry's spot for interruption came.

"I'm in love with someone else."

Winry, dumbfounded, strangled, "What?"

"I've fallen in love with someone here, Winry," Riza recapped.

Winry sputtered abundantly, "Oh-oh, uh, oh my God. Well-well-who is it?"

"His name is Taro Ikeda," Riza bit her lip while glancing beside her. "It was…after about a month, we realized, we had an in- love thing and we wanted to have a baby. Especially me."

"Riza…" Winry sensationally gasped.

"So we did," Riza exposed.

"Oh. My. God. Riza. Oh. My. _God_!" Winry's head spun when all the blood bombarded it as if she were hanging upside down.

"Yeah, I know, if I come back, the first thing out of Jean's mouth will be 'why is everybody getting pregnant? What's happening? Who's next?'" Riza snickered through tears.

"So you're pregnant?" Winry whispered.

"No," Riza repudiated.

Winry's fingers clasped the telephone cord like a stress ball, "Did something happen to the baby?"

"No, it's not that," Riza cast-ironed. "It's just…I already had him."

"I think I'm having a subarachnoid hemorrhage…" Winry cradled her cranium. "That's why you haven't come home. If you already had him, you had to of met this guy immediately."

"You're correct; I did. And now I just want to go slow for a while, Winry."

"I get it," Winry interpreted, "you don't want to leave Taro."

Riza let loose a rancorous laugh, "Don't worry, that's not a concern."

"It's not?" Winry blinked.

"He left before Roman was born," Riza's bitterness pooled again.

"Oh my God, Riza, honey, I'm so sorry. You should've called me," Winry stressed, her attention briefly unfocused at the sound of swooshing from the back room, but fully went back to the conversation with Riza again when the noise settled out.

Riza loudly scoffed, "And what? You have Emile to be in the service of. You don't need to be rambling through the desert with him. That desert part is another reason, by the way."

After a few moments of silence, Winry sifted, "So you named him Roman?"

"Yes, Roman Blaz Hawkeye," Riza wiped teardrops from her mottled face.

"You did what I did with the letters," Winry felt a mountain of pride.

Riza blubbered, "Maybe."

The lettering put Winry at the deduction, "Roman starts with an 'r' for Roy and Blaz starts with a 'b' for Berthold, for your father."

"Maybe."

"I thought so," Winry's head pumped with more hot air following her victory. "How old is he?"

"Almost four weeks. He was born on April 29 last month. 5:24 A.M., 6 pounds 7 ounces," Riza desolately smiled to herself, watching her baby having forty winks on the bed next to her.

"Did you have someone with you?" Winry crossed her fingers.

"No," Riza abashedly admitted. "A little bit on the pathetic side, huh? "

"Oh, Riza-"

Not keen to stomach Winry's sympathy, Riza declared, "He looks like Taro."

Winry susurrated, "What did Taro look like?"

Riza sighed distressfully, "He had black hair and, quite frankly, the same shape as Roy's eyes but his were light ashen. And he had a strong jaw line and a narrow face and his nose was narrow and projected a bit. He was about 5'10'' or so. Maybe an inch or two taller, I can't say for sure." Riza grudgingly sobbed, "I loved his eyes. I always felt like he looked at me with utmost reverence and affection and hunger and need. But I guess I was wrong, ya know?"

"Oh, Riza…"

"So Roman has black hair and the shape of Taro's eyes, but they're my color. He and Taro have the same shaped lips and he has my nose…"

With the pause, Winry felt that her friend wanted to say more and what she wanted to say was of a different nature than the conversation they were having. "Riza, talk to mama," Winry equipped herself for the hailstorm.

"I thought he would need me until he was blue in the face, Winry. I thought he would put down roots with me and love me, but he didn't. He fucking ran off for some worthless shit instead of wanting me and his child." Riza tried to pacify her chaotic mood, "I'm not afraid to do this without him. I know I can; but I don't _want_ to. I just thought Taro and I could protect each other and soothe each other. I thought all these things and they clouded my vision from the truth. He really pulled the wool over my eyes; got me good, didn't he?" When Winry made no admission, Riza inquired, "Are you still there?"

"Of course," Winry confirmed. "If you want to say more, say it; I won't judge you, just like you've never judged me."

"I'd just be repetitive," Riza felt more pellucid tears streaming.

"I'm repetitive all the time. Give me your guts, Riza," Winry compelled.

"Why wasn't I good enough? Why didn't he want me? What's wrong with me? I want to know why he chose a path I wasn't on, a path that I couldn't pull him back from. I've spent all these years wanting someone to love me and when I had it, it was held for ransom. I didn't realize until you had Emile that I wanted a family. And it's damn time I get what I want. I got sick of living in Roy Mustang's fucking shadow so I decided to get out and live my motherfucking life. And look where that's got me."

"You are good enough, Riza. And he didn't want you because he was damn blind as a bat. Taro may be Roman's father, but any man can be a father. Good men are the good fathers; the ones that are there for their children, if they had the choice, and would take a bullet to the head for them. And as far as Roy goes, Riza he's going _crazy_ without you. He doesn't care if you're in his shadow or not, he just wants you home." Riza's mouth didn't formulate words, "I can't speak for him, I don't know if Roy is in love with you or not but I seriously harbor suspicion he is. Taro left Riza, he left you, honey. And even if you're not in love with Roy, he would never leave and he'd take damn good care of you."

Riza lividly spoke, "What are you talking about, Winry? No he wouldn't! He can't even take care of himself!"

"But he'd always be there," Winry gave the stamp of approval.

"I just said he can't even-"

"He's straightened up," Winry corroborated.

"According to whom?" Riza skeptically scoffed.

"Rebecca and Breda. Remember? Olivier Armstrong, Central, strategize, generals? Knocked into reality, in a very literal sense? So he slipped. Every recovery has some relapses," Winry defended.

"Rebecca and Breda aren't there when he's in his house alone at night, drinking whiskey from the bottle. They aren't there when he's smashing shot glasses and wine bottles and threatening bodily harm on himself and me. And they certainly aren't the ones to walk in on him having drunken sex with some chick he doesn't know the name of.," Riza's poisonous voice dripped with repugnance.

"You didn't tell me all that," Winry tilted her head in incredulousness.

"I didn't want to demonize Roy," Riza resigned. She dropped her feet onto the hardwood, ruling strain to be at ease lying down.

Winry's toes curled out of keeping a grip on her worry, "If you didn't have the heart to exile him from your life, you should have told me. Or told somebody. Anybody would have helped, Riza. Breda, Rebecca, Grumman, Armstrong, Fuery, Maria, Falman, and _especially _Jean and me. Even Izumi would have helped you."

"You don't get it, Winry," Riza explained, "I didn't _want_ Roy out of my life; I didn't want anybody to hurt him."

"But it was ok for him to hurt you? How could you have let Roy treat you like that?" Winry hardheartedly rehashed.

"Because I love him."

"I know you love him, but his actions were and are intolerable!" Winry iterated. "Why the fuck did you put up with that shit as long as you did?"

"Because I love him."

"Riza-"

"You don't have to convince me of anything, Winry. I'm just a crutch, a safety net, for him." Riza knotted her hair, "I knew that. I could accept it. But it's still a leech on my consciousness."

Winry's head landed against the side of the solid desk, "Goddamn, I'm full of contradictions tonight. I already told you, Riza…I'm pretty sure Roy is in love with you."

"No he's not! He essentially told me!"

"What do you mean he told you?"

"I said to him the day before we brawled in the hospital, when he beat that guy in front of the nursery, I said, 'Roy, I don't know what this funk with us is, but we need to figure it out.' I told him we needed to sort our feelings out. So he took that to mean I was implying he was in love with me. You know what he said? He told me I was delusional and he asked 'how could I possibly want you?' And said 'there's something wrong with you if you think we could be together. And if you can't get that stupid notion out of your mind, you're too dense to recognize you're being a pill, a real headache.' So _I_ told _him_ I wasn't even close to fucking suggesting any of that and _he _was the delusional one. I added on that _he_ was the one drunk off his ass, so he would most certainly be the one stuck in a fool's paradise."

Winry pinched the bridge of her nose, unbelieving she was to mutter, "It's like I said, I can't speak for him. But, despite that I _hate_ this excuse, he was wasted. Keep in mind Roy's wasted is not even remote to regular wasted. I recall you saying to me an argument cannot destroy devotion. You and Roy have that." Winry breathed, "You said you were the reason he started drinking," Riza's breath hitched, "so you should be able to be the reason for him to stop drinking."

_August 14, 1942, Central, Amestris_

"No, that's stupid, Fuery!" Breda censured. "Pink and orange are the _worst_ combination of colors! I mean, would you wear a suit that's orange with a pink tie and shirt? No! Because that'd look stupid! Pink and orange are not colors that should mix, even when it's not involving clothes! That's just stupid!"

"Oh, yeah?" Fuery guffawed, "Well, _you're_ stupid!"

"Says _Captain Stupid_!" Breda boomed.

Fuery abruptly stood from his desk and shot back, "You're a fatty, fatty, fat, fat moose!"

Breda's mouth dropped in abashment then perched over his desk and pointed at his confidante for emphasis, "Schnook! You're a ninny! A yokel!"

"It's _so_ upsetting your guys' brainpower hasn't been shared with the military scientists." Breda and Fuery, the only two present for overtime in Roy Mustang's office, turned to Rebecca leaning on the doorframe. Rebecca shook her head, "Mustang really picks the brightest and most talented, doesn't he?"

Breda focused his feisty finger at Rebecca, "Shut up! If Mustang's team is so talentless, what does that say about you?"

Rebecca put forth a derisive smile, "Wow, your correlation skills far exceed your intellect."

Breda adopted her mocking smile, "Jean is on Mustang's team still."

Rebecca pumped up a fist in warning, "Don't start that bull-"

"Jean must have _some_ sort of talent: you are fuh-fuh-fucking him!" Breda laughed victoriously. However, his cackling shorted out when Rebecca made a beeline across the workplace faster than Fuery or Breda could blink and tackled Breda from behind, snapping the side of his face and his torso flat onto the sturdy desk.

Rebecca mercilessly twisted Breda's arm behind his back, "I swear to _God_, if you don't _quit_ acting like Jean and I are together in _any way possible_, I'm going to put your balls in a _meat grinder_! And don't _ever_ say he and I are having _sex_!"

Fuery had scuttled for all practical purposes from Breda's ass-kicking and vaguely heard the chiming of the telephone. Fuery answered Roy's authorized phone after inching to it, "Roy Mustang's office. Please disregard the noises you may hear, there's just a little-"

"What the fuck ever, Fuery! Just-" the urgent voice belted.

"Jean?"

The utterance of Jean's name caught the attention of the riotous Rebecca and the lily-livered Breda, "Yes, it's Jean! Go to Roy's house _now_!"

Every muscle and nerve in Fuery's physique agonizingly constricted, "What's wrong?"

"He just called me and told me he'd fucking see me on the other goddamn side! He barely slurred it out, he was _so_ incredibly drunk! _Go to his house now_!" Jean hastened.

"Holy shit, we're leaving, call you later," Fuery exigently confirmed.

"Come on!" Fuery ran past Rebecca and Breda sprawled out over the desk and into the hallway.

Rebecca took flight after Fuery, Breda push-upped from the unforgiving desk and hounded the racing soldiers. When Rebecca became even with Fuery, she implored, "Why are we running? What's going on?"

Fuery sought his keys in his jacket as he panted, "It's Mustang! No time, just hurry!"

The flustered trio breezed past Falman like startled cheetahs. Falman called after his wing-footed associates while steadying his coffee, the thick cup quaking like his elbow due to jumping away from the rushing comrades, "Where are you guys running to? You're gonna knock some poor old man like me over; break his hip!"

Breda didn't bother to look back, "Mustang's in trouble!"

Without consideration, Falman dropped his steaming cup of caffeine to the concrete floor. The worry he could have had about spilling the coursing coffee wasn't present as he sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him down the hallway. He swung around the corner and scarcely slid his arm through the elevator doors. They slid apart again and Falman hurdled into the elevator as Rebecca over and over hammered the first floor button. "Illustration?" Falman wheezed.

Fuery shook his head frantically, "All I know is Jean said he told him he'd see 'em on the other side and he's drunk. The way Jean said it makes it unquestionably seem like a life or death implication."

Breda, Rebecca, Fuery, and Falman rocketed from the elevator before the polished doors wholly opened. Traveling like superluminosity, the four made tracks over the parking lot and clashed into the seats of Fuery's car. Not leaving time for inhalation or prayer, Fuery floored it. None of them breathed a word out of anxiety. The gravitational effects from the speedy turns through the streets shifted the passengers in every direction but they had no breath to complain. They closed in on Roy's extravagant house after the four mile dash that left some alarmed, dodging citizens picking themselves off the pavement.

All the vehicle's doors banged closed when Fuery parked the car as close to the front door as he could manage. Stepping across the porch after hustling over the smoothly-layered flagstone walkway to his doorstep, Breda jingled the brass doorknob but it was locked. "Fuck! What are we going to do now?" Breda grabbed his hair in frustration.

Rebecca shoved him aside, nearly somersaulting him into the blossomed lilac bush that matched the same bush on the other side of the porch, "I'll show you what we're going to fucking do." Rebecca took a couple steps back; next, violently compelled herself forwards, and nailed her boot-clad foot alongside the doorknob. The doorframe released a resistant cry when the dusty combat boot cracked a line in the door. She took another few steps back and kicked the door in approximately the same spot. After two more physical attacks, the frame bust open with the sound of a mine collapsing. "Let's split up."

Breaking into divergent directions, the four hysterically combed the house, calling out Roy's name but receiving no response. Rebecca grumbled, "There's too many damn rooms in this house. Leave it to this narcissist to have to live in a castle." She stormily opened another oak door on the second floor to find a ruffled bed but no body, "Roy!" No response came and the rummaging, grumbling, but worried stiff woman began pulling the door shut. Nonetheless, two things grabbed her eye. A yellowish-brown fluid covered a few spots on the floor, but more importantly, a ghostlike hand lay on the floor on the other side of the bed, out of Rebecca's direct line of vision. _Most _importantly, the hand was shaking. "Oh my God! Roy!" Rebecca rotated her torso enough to cry wolf, "Roy's in here! Guys! You guys! Roy's in here!" She silenced only after Breda was mounting the stairs then she ran past the unidentified stains and around what she assumed to be Roy's everyday bed. Discovering Roy's state, Rebecca gasped, horrified, "Roy! Fuck! Holy fuck!"

Breda stampeded through the doorway and around the bed. Breda bit his tongue as he jerked a plump pillow from Roy's bed then kneeled on his knees. Fuery and Falman sprinted through the door within seconds of Breda stuffing the pillow under Roy's head and rolling the general on his side. Falman balled his fist, "Is he having a seizure?"

Breda assured, "Yes."

Fuery swiftly long-established, "It'll only last a couple minutes, maybe less if he'd already been in the middle of it. But we can't move him right now. When it's stopped, we've got to get him in the car."

Breda sternly instructed, "Rebecca, you'll drive. Fuery and I are going to stay in the back with him in case he has another seizure; he could injure somebody if he does and I'd rather it not be you."

Rebecca raised her eyebrows, "Breda, that's…sweet of you."

Breda snorted, "I just meant I couldn't stand to hear you bitch about it later."

Rebecca narrowed her eyes, "Son of a bitch."

Falman, indisputably thwarting an argument, popped the question, "Why is he having seizures?"

Fuery broadcasted his prognosis, "If Jean was right about how drunk he was, it's probably severe dehydration. I don't know what he drank but it must have been strong. And it must have been a lot." Fuery motioned towards the mysterious yellowish-brown substance, "All that's bile, so it supports my theory."

When Roy's body finally came to a standstill, Breda and Rebecca dragged him to his inoperable feet without a word. Breda grunted when he secured his arms under Roy's knees and around his back, "Good lord, he has to weigh two-hundred pounds." Breda carried him through the door, "And that's not an exaggeration."

Fuery tailed Breda, "Well, he is like six feet tall and built. Did you think he was going to be light as a feather?"

"Shut the fuck up, Fuery; I don't want to be any more upset with you than I already am. Orange and pink go together…you're a yahoo," Breda groaned, positioning Roy so he could get down the stairs. "And _of course_ it has to be the second floor."

"You bitches cat fight later," Rebecca interpolated. "We're in the middle of something _kind of important_."

The rescuers were toting Roy down the perpendicular stairs when Falman transformed into a very advantageous mammal. He mindlessly gave a final looksee around the bedroom and located the glimmer of glass. Falman cautiously winched up the bed skirt to pinpoint an empty alcohol bottle. He circled his wrinkled fingers around the neck and read the poorly handwritten label. His eyes radically widened, "No wonder." Realizing the team may leave him behind if he didn't get to the car, Falman constricted his grip on the bottle and ran down the stairs like a flash to the door.

Rebecca closed the rear door of the car as Falman latched the house's front door together as best he could with the destroyed frame. He sped over the flagstone walkway to the car in nothing flat. His door harshly latched a second after Rebecca latched the driver's door. The engine resurrected and Rebecca got her hand on the gear but stopped short of moving it when Falman held the bottle he found in the air for all to see, "Look what he was drinking."

The friends in need gaped when the sloppily inscribed words were processed. Breda choked, "He drank the whole thing…" Breda shook his head in disbelief, "He had to have chugged that. How the hell could he do that?"

Fuery slapped the summit of his head, "This only makes it worse! Go, go, go! He'll die if we don't get him to a hospital!" Rebecca didn't gamble away another second as she cocked the gear and gunned the gas pedal. When they went peeling rubber through the streets of Central, Fuery resumed his rant, "He needs his stomach pumped and God knows what else."

Rebecca's deliberation knuckled down to Riza. _You'll have a gun in your mouth if he doesn't live through this._ Insentiently, Rebecca sped up to rush Roy to medical attention. Her concentration became distracted when an unconscious Roy lurched forward like a hefty bulk tumbled on his head and threw up on the floor.

Falman glanced at Fuery, "Oh man, Fuery, your-"

"I don't give a damn! If him throwing up in my car means saving his life, I don't care!" Fuery proclaimed. Roy took up the fine activity of dry heaving. Fuery twisted towards Roy, "That's positively abnormal." After Roy perpetuated his heaving, Fuery started scouring for a pulse, "His has a rapid pulse…I just felt a skip, I think."

Breda pitched, "You think it's the dehydration?"

Fuery slapped his palm against his temple a couple times, "Maybe. That might be it, or he could be developing cardiomyopathy from all the alcohol abuse he's been doing for _over a year_. But I doubt it's that. It's most likely just dehydration." Fuery analyzed Roy's eyes rolling in the back of his head, "There's no way he doesn't have alcohol poisoning. And with that shit," Fuery pointed at the glass bottle, "if he drank all that, it'll be pretty unsparing."

Rebecca trundled around a corner, the motion swaying the passengers, "We're almost there." She ran her quivering fingers through the length of her hair, "Is there anything you can do to slow down the pulse?"

Fuery shook his head, "If it's due to dehydration, the answer is water. But we don't exactly have that option at the moment. This is getting worse and worse by the minute."

Without warning, Roy was thrown into another seizure. Breda and Fuery cursed at the bombshell and tried to repress him best as possible with the least amount of pressure they could muster. Roy's counterparts held their breaths until the convulsion ran its course. Once it hit the dead end, Roy doubled over and vomited one more time, much to everyone's repulsion and nasal discomfort. Breda and Fuery boosted Roy upright and stood him against the backseat support, his tremors rattling their hands.

Rebecca pulled up to the emergency door at the hospital once they arrived. She ran in as the men were opening the car doors. Medics flew out the door when she told the nurse she had General Roy Mustang in dire need of iatric assistance. Remarking that Fuery, Falman, and Breda had abandoned the car to follow the medics into the hospital, Rebecca headed to move Fuery's car. Rebecca drove the car to the front parking lot of the hospital and eased the machine into a parking space. A sigh escaped her lips as her hands slid the boundary of the steering wheel and landed on her lap. The vulgar odor of the bile stretched to her nostrils and she unlatched her door and stepped into the humid night. Rebecca stretched her arms above her head and mumbled to herself, "It's probably ten or eleven o'clock. Damn. I've got all night to sit in a hospital." She slid her hands into the pockets of her olive coat once she jarred the car door shut, "Guess I better call Jean and Grumman. Perfect." Passing the back window opened to the backseat, she saw Fuery's jacket squashed on the side of the backseat he resided earlier, "Might as well bring it in." Opening the back door to take hold of Fuery's jacket, a folded piece of paper slopped from the floorboard to the ground beside Rebecca's shoe. She snatched up the note and unfolded the iron pressed note to find a list written in small, neat script.

_Fuck up my life._

_Fuck up my career._

_Fuck up my internal organs._

_Drink as much alcohol as possible._

_Fuck everyone._

_Kill Maes._

_Don't protect Fullmetal and Alphonse._

_Make everyone despise me._

_Fuck living._

_Fix things with Riza._

Roy had checkmarks next to all the numerals, except number ten.

_August 16, 1942, Xing, Riza's Apartment_

Riza was near rolling in the floor at the sight of Roman teasing Hayate. Roman had discovered blowing in Hayate's face stemmed the dog to ferociously shake his head, making his ears flop wildly, and duck a few steps backwards in befuddlement. Hayate would run away from the infant only to circle and come back to Roman. When Hayate harked back to Roman, he would blow on the pet's face again. Their shenanigans kept going when the phone buzzed. Riza flattened her woven carmine dolman dress out, the rayon material dropping the scoop neck symmetrically across her chest, when she sprouted from the couch to answer the communication device in her kitchen. "Hello?" Riza greeted with a smile in her voice.

In contrast, Winry responded in a fit of terror, "Riza! You have to come home now! I just found out R-"

Riza mildly and acutely laughed as she beheld her son and his antics, "Winry, I'm perfectly-"

"Roy's in a coma! And the doctor's not sure he'll come out of it!"

The plane of Riza's heart crashed into a propane tank, "W-what? What? _Oh, God._" Riza's legs gave out and her convulsing hand barely latched onto the rounded edge of the countertop to lower herself to her knees onto the linoleum floor. Her body tilted forward, her loose hair falling in the angle of her head, and her hand remained attached to the counter for leverage, the other gripped the body of the phone hard enough to cause tendonitis. "No, no, no, no, no…no, Winry, don't tell me that," Riza's stomach was struck with an earthquake and her sternum broke into her chest and massacred her ability to breathe properly. Conscience-stricken teardrops seeped from the rim of her eyes. Her bottom lip trembled, "You can't…you can't tell me that."

Winry's voice shook from lamenting with her dear friend, "Riza, he binged on a fifth of one hundred proof ethanol moonshine."

Riza obstructed, "He had to of downed that; there's no way he could have drank the whole thing before passing out if he didn't drink it in one draft. He shouldn't have…shouldn't have live…lived." Riza's hand wilted from the counter to cover her mouth and she toppled on her side, the base of the phone deafeningly thumping to the kitchen floor near her legs. Riza curled into a heap of bones drenched in self-punishment. Riza sobbed, every fiber of her vital force deteriorating, "I did this."

Winry pleaded, "Riza, don't do this to yourself."

"I-I just…you were right, I should've come home." Riza shamelessly sobbed, Hayate trotting into the kitchen with a slanted head, "And I said all that. That I hoped he died, that I…Now I have to eat my words and I-" Riza's voice box cracked like a fortune cookie, "I need to say…fuck…I need to see him, just in case he… I can't bury Roy, Winry. I could never watch Roy be buried."

"Riza…"

Riza sobbed loudly, "I'm coming home."


	9. Purgatory of Worship and No Love Lost

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemis mkt. I do not own the manga/anime characters, plots, or creation.

**Bless My Body, Bless My Soul**

**By TheKennethAnger**

Chapter 9: Purgatory of Worship and No Love Lost

**Sunt lacrimae rerum et mentem mortalia tangunt**** - ****These are the tears of things, and our mortality cuts to the heart. (Vergil)**

_August 20, 1942, Central, Amestris_

"Riza!" Jean wrapped Riza in his encouraging arms, lifting her from the tile and into a pirouette. Jean throttled her with fraternal fondness after her feet firmly fell onto the floor, "I've missed you so fucking much! Where have you been?"

"That isn't relevant to the situation, Jean," Riza's inflamed, redden-rimmed copper eyes fell. "I need specifics. I hit the road as soon as Winry called me and I didn't make time to find out any information."

Rebecca caught the statement by a hair as she exited the waiting room, "Winry knew where you were?"

Riza sensed the accusing jealousy in Rebecca's voice and sensed the upset from Jean, "I told her not to tell anybody where I was. So don't give her a hard time. I needed to find fortitude within myself. And I never would have been able to find whatever I'm looking for if I was put on ice like I would have been here. Not with him taking advantage like he was."

Jean glided his thumb over Riza's cheek as a droplet streamed from her eyes, "What are you talking about, sis? What do you mean taking advantage of you?"

"It's not relevant. Ignore my last statement," Riza retracted from him. Riza heard the elevator ring and looked to her left, where Winry was switching Roman from one hip to the other. As to not raise suspicion, Riza padded between her long-lost companions, Jean and Rebecca speedily trailing her, to the waiting room tucked with occupants of tensed nature. Madame Christmas, Vanessa from the bar, Breda, Knox, Armstrong, and Grumman stared at her as though she'd been gone from the cradle to the grave. "I have a confession." Before Riza finished, Winry slid through the door with Riza's baby boy in her stern arms.

"Riza…" Grumman's line of sight settled on Roman and his eye color.

Riza rooted her juddering hand in her bangs, "I have a son; his name's Roman Blaz. I had him last month in Xing. That's one of the reasons I didn't want to come back here."

"Why is everybody getting _pregnant_? What's _happening_? I mean, who's _next_? You…you…" Jean stuttered. "You had a kid?" Astonishment morphed into irritability, "You're joking. You must be fucking with me."

Riza dropped her hand and looked at her self-designated brother, "Why would I be? Am I not allowed to have a child?"

"That's not what I meant, Riza!" Jean defended his earlier stuttering.

Riza trotted to the doorway and bit over her shoulder, "I'm going to the nurse's station to request Roy's doctor talk to me when he comes by. Try to construct more of an optimistic response before I return."

Once Riza was out of sight, Jean slumped into the seat beside Breda, "Well she's going to shoot me in the face with a twelve-gauge shotgun. I just can't believe-"

Madame Christmas ended, "Nobody can."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys where she was," Winry spun the opposite way from the group on her heel, swinging Roman from her boney hip to cradle him against her ribs, her elbow supporting him, and sat on the chair.

Grumman's eyebrows crinkled at the back of Winry's platinum locks, "It's better that you didn't, Winry."

"This is like an alternate universe," Rebecca pondered. "And Jean's right; what is _going on_? Babies are popping up out of nowhere. Where's the next one coming from? Fuck." Out of the junction of her eye, she noticed Breda's gaze locked on her face, sweltering with amusement. Her teeth crunched and her brows jacked up in threat.

Riza stormed back into the room without looking at anyone past the point of Winry. She took residence beside Winry and the women altered possession of Roman. Riza hastily crash-landed into a belfry of gospel truth. _Roy's going to die on me._ Riza handcuffed the slate tiffany material around the younger woman's forearm. Winry instantly realized her friend's need for spiritual support and glued her mouth shut, choosing instead to place a hand over Riza's.

Grumman informally moaned, "I'm going to take a walk. This bag of bones can tolerate these chairs for only so long." _Bag of bones? Ha! I'm young and vibrant; it's so obvious I'm lying!_

Knox informed, "I'm not exactly young myself." He followed along after Grumman. Surprisingly, Madame Christmas produced a similar half-assed justification and merged with the elder fellows. In due time, the three sat in the corner of the hospital's cafeteria with fresh black coffee and half-eaten bagels smeared with cream cheese.

"I can't process this," Grumman thumped his temple with the tip of his fingers. "Why is Riza so frantic to prove she doesn't need Mustang?"

"As far as I can gather, she's trying to emphasize she doesn't need him to survive. She's trying to prove she can be happy without being treated like shit," Madame Christmas scowled. "And Roy knows he treated her like shit and that's why he sold his soul to the underworld."

Knox observed the steam arising from the coffee, "It's ironic you say that. I told him last year something to the effect that ache spreads like a virus and he told me he may as well be thrown into the lake of fire. Stupid son of a bitch. Nobody had to throw him anywhere; he dived head over heels."

Madame Christmas reiterated, "I'm completely dumbfounded. If he wakes up, this will slaughter him."

Grumman contributed, "I speculate staying away from Mustang for so long has resulted in Riza losing her usually impeccable decision-making abilities. And we all _know_ how devastated Mustang was. It seems they can't function properly without access to one another."

"This baby is her retribution. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," Chris injected.

Knox scowled, "Call me old-fashioned, but settling the score doesn't usually involve having a baby as a maneuver."

Minutes of life spun away with the churning of the clock. Chris, Grumman, and Knox returned to the waiting room, putting everybody together again. As time trudged on, a few people asked questions of Riza that she never responded to. Riza simply trained her eyes on her son. With Fuery, Falman, Sheska, and Gracia receiving no response from the attentive mother, the group quieted and sat behind Riza and Winry with the rest of the team. Noticing a man in glasses and in a white trench coat, Winry nudged the dozing, jetlagged Riza, "There's Roy's doctor."

Riza shot to attention and glanced at Winry and Roman, who was in her friend's lap. Riza came out of her violent vertigo. The doctor placed a pen behind his ear, "I'm Doctor Caputo and I'm treating General Mustang. The nurses informed me you were all here for him and wanted to talk to me." Caputo's vision penetrated Grumman, "Fürher Grumman…I wasn't aware you were here."

"Of course, son. One of my generals is in harm's way. What kind of leader would I be if I were to shove that on the backburner?" Grumman folded his hands.

The doctor swallowed his embarrassment, "No, I was simply unaware you were here. As I was startled that General Armstrong arrived from Fort Briggs."

"My treasured kin is in Central? My, my, my!" Armstrong pranced around the waiting room. "Where may she be?"

"Grow up, cream puff. And so help me _God_ if you try to hug me, I'll knock you senseless; not that you need assistance in the aspect," Olivier commanded.

Grumman arose from his chair, "General Armstrong, why are you here rather than Briggs?"

"I received word of General Mustang's…predicament and figured I'd make a visit in case a dire situation occurs. Amestris is under speculation of attack and Central is most likely the prime target. I recognize I am not an alchemist but I can hold my own. General Mustang is incapacitated and my reject sibling is incompetent," Olivier explained.

Grumman haughtily grinned, "General Armstrong, no need for justifications; General Mustang needs as much support as he can get."

Olivier's lips tightened, "Sir, no disrespect, but I am not here to support him; I am here to ensure the strategies he would carry out are indeed carried out if necessary. My men at Briggs know their defenses."

"Notion appreciated, General. Now sit with us," Grumman ordered.

"Fürher-"

"That's an order, General."

Olivier's lips suctioned together and her teeth gnashed as did her nerves, "Yes, sir."

Olivier directed towards the supporters but stopped short. She scrutinized Riza sliding her blatantly shaky hands over either of her ears, her eyes pressed and her hair matted and disheveled. _Why did she leave if she was still this connected to him_? Olivier's path diverted to poise alongside Riza. Doctor Caputo refreshed the memory of his presence with an obnoxious clearing of his throat. "I hate to encroach, but I have other patients and I need to explain General Mustang's condition."

"Before you digress, I hark back that you and the staff signed confidentiality contracts. And I have to wonder how General Armstrong was notified," Grumman gave the fifth degree.

Olivier explained, "Sir, my unapt brother called me. The staff did not drop information."

Grumman nodded, "Carry on, doctor."

Riza forced herself to stay and slid her hand on the side of her neck. She moved closer to the doctor and her hoarse voice entwined with a near whimper, "I just came in a while ago and I need you to start at the beginning."

Doctor Caputo, thinking she was Roy's girlfriend, secretly feeling bad for her, started at the beginning he knew, "There's a massive amount of info on his circumstance. Firstly, he drank enough alcohol that his blood alcohol level was point four o' one. It's rare something like this is survivable, but I had one man here before that was up to point four three and survived, but he had severe brain damage when he woke up. When the General came in, we had to pump his stomach and had to insert a tube through his mouth and into his stomach to supply saline to clear the toxins in order to remove the alcohol contained in the bloodstream.

"Since then his body has already started irrepressible detox so we've been supplying fluids and nutrients into his veins and we have a mechanical ventilator we're using to provide oxygen because he has apnea, stemmed from respiratory convulsion." His empathic conscience twisted at the waterfall cascaded down her cheeks, dammed by the edge of her hand covering her mouth and chin, "Um…he's had twenty-four hour care since he was admitted. When we examined him, he didn't have any surface injuries. Unfortunately, his internal damage is extreme."

Riza's gaunt eyes fluttered wildly and her knees felt like a sledge hammer assault began against them. Even _Olivier_ deliberated giving her a prop, but Jean beat her to the punch. He giftwrapped his arms around her from behind and held her pliable body from falling to the floor. The doctor tentatively continued, "Usually it takes years for addiction to progress to this stage, but based on the severity of this case, and his tolerance before inebriation, he has major alcohol addiction and abuse as loose as a canon which could have led to serious problems up to this point."

"Like what?" Breda probed diagonally behind the doting Jean and hysterical Riza.

Doctor Caputo shifted back and forth on his feet, "Symptoms could have consisted of diminished vigilance with some lethargy. This type of addiction and abuse could bring on impulsive sexual undertakings and mental derangements. The mental derangements would most likely harvest unfamiliar aggression or harmful conduct or depression and anxiety. Even psychosis, possibly hallucinations, could accompany the mental effects. Centered on his physicality, he is lacking nutrition, he had tremors when he first came in, which the alcohol could have caused. When he wakes up…he could have brain damage." Caputo heavily sighed, "The alcohol could have inclined contemplation of suicide, possibly create the want for suicide…"

Riza buried her profile into the bend of Jean's arm, squeezing his forearm with all her might, "Riza, come on, let's sit down."

Riza sobbed into his taut skin, "No, I want to see him."

Jean rubbed Riza's heaving back to soothe her, "Riza, I'm not sure you can handle that yet."

Caputo reassured, "Whatever you decide, the ICU visiting hours don't end until eight thirty tonight. So you have about three hours you can stay. Then in the morning you can go in at about ten o'clock."

"Riza, no," Jean tried to snatch her when she disentangled herself from his reassuring provision.

Riza clutched Jean's palm and cracked his wrist in a twisty, rough position, obliging him to discharge her, "Let the fuck go of me. I'm going to see him, goddamn it; you won't fuckin' stop me from seeing him."

Riza stalked out, Caputo behind the vehement woman, and Winry jetted up. Not caring Olivier would hate her action, Winry held Roman towards the hard-bitten general, "Take him." Olivier's torso overhung rearward when Winry laid the child against her chest. Olivier wrapped her arm around Roman in fright then Winry dashed out of the room. The worried woman left Olivier high and dry with the child to dart to Riza's side. "Riza," Winry sternly gripped the elder blonde's elbow. Riza stopped and looked at Winry. The doctor took the hint to lie in wait a ways down the hall. Winry's hand glided up to Riza's shimmying shoulder, "Did that give you even a grain of peace?" Riza shrugged. Winry took Riza into her arms, "In some measure you know why he behaved like he did. The out of character aggression and the sexual impulses and the destructive depression… Riza, I don't think you should go in there right now. You should let all the chapter and verse sink in."

"If Roy was Ed, what would you do?"

Winry let her loose. She heedfully replied with the apparent and frank answer, "You're right. Go. Do you need me to come in with you?"

"No," Riza filled no further explanation. Winry whirled her by the shoulders and gave a sweet-tempered push of silent encouragement. Riza caught up to the doctor at the end of the hall. She inattentively went through the motions until she opened the ingot door to Roy's section of the ICU. From her location, Riza saw the end of the bed, a clipboard hanging on the frame, and a white cotton percale sheet that lined lumps at the bottom of the mattress. His feet alone made nausea bombard her guts and intestines. But the torment had to be stomached. Her feet moved on their own accord as she forged pass the protruding wall which cut off her sight of the rest of the piceous-haired male. Riza eclipsed her face against the wall and her hands clasped together behind her head, her contorted arms outlined the sides of her cranium after she took in his comatose mass. Riza clamped down a wail of anvil cries that nearly overwhelmed her. She enforced a rallying cry to her own pneuma, "You have to hold the fort, Riza; you can't run away from him again."

Riza closed her eyelids and turned to the hospital bed. Afraid of her own reaction, she sightlessly wobbled to the bed. Her movements ceased when she had one hand on the side of the bed, the other on Roy's ribs. Cautiously posed on the stony bed toward the wall, facing away from Roy, Riza felt around for Roy's hand. Internal upheaval seemed to overpass before Riza could open her reddish orbs. Her focus fell on a corpselike hand. The hand's anorexic digits and marred knuckles, connected to many bones, resonated in her memory as much as the slight tremors resonated in her grip. Unable to indulge in more daring action at that moment, Riza affectionately traced the veins of the hand, transparent through his gossamer flesh.

Her fingertips coned from the base of his fingers to the nails many a time. Though still unable to feast her eyes on the man's face, Riza croaked out her thoughts, "I couldn't let myself get attached to what was happening. But that doesn't mean I had to take off like a recreant, does it?" Riza's thumb stroked Roy's knuckles side to side, "I'm supposed to be your motherfucking guardian angel, not your executioner. Look what's happened since we were separated." Riza blanketed his hand with hers, "I won't let that happen again. I will meet you at the crossroads and I will leave no stone unturned to get a hold of you. If I have to slide into the shadows below, it will be done. As long as I stay with you."

Riza was a depository of unconfident boldness. She encased his wrist as her other hand coasted the extent of his stock-still arm then ghosted to his ribs. A lament slipped through her mouth. Riza daintily swiveled to meticulously gaze at Roy's comatose body. A sleet of remorse flurried from her eyes and a whine exuded like rolling thunder from Riza's throat. Roy's skin was as pale as a phantom and his lips were extremely raw from the ventilator's insertion. The endotracheal tube was uselessly laying a few inches beside his pillow rather in his mouth, Riza guessed because he had initiated breathing on his own. _Wait…he's breathing on his own._ She recognized this development to be critical regarding his immediate jeopardy. She needed some good news like this.

In the waiting room, there was as much heartache as in Roy's room.

"I shouldn't have suspended him."

Knox snorted with his head remaining perched against the wall behind his seat, "Why not? So he could drown national security in booze?"

"It may have fueled this recklessness."

Olivier nearly gave cold reassurance but fell silence when someone else replied. "Why the hell would you think that, old man?" Chris picked at her fingernails, disregarding he was the fürher. She felt no need for that military formality mumbo jumbo.

"He felt abandoned by Riza. Then he felt abandoned by me," Grumman leaned onto the top of his closed fist, his elbow resting on the thin arm of the chair. "There's just probably more I could have done."

Madame Christmas remained leaned on her outer bicep against the wall beside the miniature window, staring around the drowsy sun, and scoffed, "Roy Mustang is too pigheaded to take any advice when it comes to his personal life. Once he's made a decision, his conviction to what he sees fit is uncompromising. A forte and Achilles heel he has in that aspect."

Grumman sighed and twisted his mustache in thought, "I suppose there are things beyond my control." He hummed, "Surprising, isn't it?"

Everybody rolled their eyes before Breda attempted to change such a dreary subject, "So, Vanessa, right?" Vanessa nodded, "You work for Madame Christmas as an informant?"

Vanessa tossed her hair back, "I was. The employee status ended when we all left for Xing. I came back because I prefer Amestris. Weird, isn't it?"

Madame Christmas clarified, "Now she's a bartender in my new bar."

Breda kept the ball rolling, "How is that new bar?"

"Satisfying. I don't like the backward neighbors because they're scum. One came in and after a few drinks he tried to grab Vanessa out the door."

"Yeah, but James, that's the other bartender, was there to punch him. James told that jackass, verbatim, 'if you think I'll let you hurt one hair on her head, you'll find a bottle smashed over yours.' So the guy-"

A real curveball came. Winry leapt out of her chair in upset, taking Roman to Gracia, "I have to go."

Gracia took tenure of Roman, "What's wrong, Winry?"

Winry didn't utter a sole sound as she virtually raced through the waiting room's doorway. A few seconds of disoriented silence because Winry had run about like a headless chicken, Breda scratched his head and stood up, "What just happened? Why'd she take off running?"

"I don't know," Rebecca responded, "but I'm going to find out." Rebecca sprinted like a hare out of the room as well and swung in the direction Winry had sprinted down. Vaguely hearing Jean call her name, Rebecca overlooked him and ran like greased lightning. Every corner she turned, every person she nearly creamed, every room she passed, strength of character impelled her further. She heard a red-headed nurse with a kit in her hands mutter 'spectacular, another cross-country runner'. "Hey! You just said she ran by here! Which way'd she go?"

The nurse didn't even look back at Rebecca, "She went to the emergency exit."

_What a bitch._ Rebecca busted through the emergency exit and slid her hand down the rail, skipping steps at a time to spiral downwards until a door swung closed, echoing at full volume from above her. "Goddamn it, Winry," Rebecca mumbled to herself and retraced her steps and hustled up the stairs like hell's fire was chasing her. Huffing and puffing, Rebecca stepped onto the peak of the stairs and found her fingers pausing around the handle while she built up what to say. Creaking the door open, Rebecca met the sight of Winry lingering on the side of the roof, her arms folded and laid on the railing, and her face finding refuge in the hideaway of her arms. Her posture was terribly bent so her face could crook low enough to meet against the rail. Rebecca bit by bit drew near as if she were poaching a startled animal. "Winry...Do you want to-"

Winry's voice shook like an earthquake, "I have to go. I need to go."

"Go where?" Rebecca inquired.

"Just…away. Not like Riza did; just away. Home. I just want to go home," Winry cried, causing her head to toss slightly. When the slacken sun mirrored off her pearly hair, the shine was so lustrous it could blind a man.

"Ok…well…" Rebecca racked her brain for the proper response.

"I know it's bad timing," Winry gushed, "but I can't stand hospitals. Not sitting around and waiting in them like that."

Rebecca rubbed Winry's back, "I know it's mind-numbing but-"

Winry shook her head as much as possible in her position, "No, that's not it at all. Ed was always in hospitals. Every time he called me for maintenance, I would find him in a hospital banged up and his automail was always destroyed from fights…every time I think of hospitals and waiting on someone to get better, I think of Edward." Winry gasped, making Rebecca's hand visibly rise with her back, "Every motherfucking thing reminds me of him. Automail, military police, people performing alchemy. And trains and the color red and blonde hair and pocket watches and gloves and the color black and people yelling and people being nice to me or trying to take care of me." Winry wheezed once more, "And when I hear the word brother and when people I know don't make sense to me sometimes and the smell of leather or clove, he smelled like leather and cloves… Just everything. Sand, stupid jokes, books, Central, Resembool…"

"Winry-" Rebecca tried to comfort, but it was futile.

Winry's back inflated again, "And smartass quips and fights and people sleeping and whenever anybody has any guilt from mistakes and apple pies and Izumi's tattoo and the room he stayed in at Granny's and traveling and encouraging words and totally gay speeches and kindness and kissing and anger and pain and just…everything." Winry raised her head, her face drenched in crushed longing, and Rebecca embraced her, pulling her away from the rail and cupped the backside of her skull, "When Vanessa said that… When Scar threatened to kill me after I found out he killed my parents, Ed said that. He said to Scar, 'if you think I'll let you hurt one hair on her head'." Winry's hands came to rest over her eyes and cheeks, "What am I supposed to do? I can't do this. All that I touch, all that I do, all that I see, it leads me back to Ed. And I'm a horrible mother, because Emile's hair was my color to begin with but it's turned the shade of Ed's hair and all I see when I look at him is Ed. My own flesh and blood just makes me want to die."

"Winry, no, you are _not_ a horrible mother. A horrible mother would abandon her son if they brought her so much pain. You love Emile and you are there for him and that's all that matters." Rebecca grabbed Winry's respective arms to ease her back, "Think about Ed. What would he want you to do?"

"Stop crying and missing him this much," Winry sniffled.

"Well, I think one out of two's not bad," Rebecca offered a small smile with wide eyes. "So you have to keep moving. I know it's dark right now, but you'll reach the light soon enough."

Winry grabbed the horizontal, cylinder metal of the rail, "But once I reach the light, there's just going to be another tunnel."

"Winry!"

Winry carried her hands across the dew on the rail until her thumbs touched and laid the side of her onto the back of her hands. Rebecca turned to react to the woman, "How'd you know we were up here?"

"Does it matter?" Riza huffed. She too walked on eggshells to stop by Winry. "Are you ok?"

"Ed."

The name was the only word Riza needed to hear, "You don't have to stay. Nothing's changed, and if it does, it won't be for a while."

"I just need to go home," Winry looked fixedly on crepuscular light rolling over the structures and streets of the city.

"I'll buy a ticket for Rush Valley," Riza softly offered.

"No," Winry's eyelashes clouded over her vision as she squinted in the radiance. "I mean Resembool. I just need to lie in his bed. I need to feel like he's beside me, and that Al is just a wall away."

"Ok," Riza latched onto the rail beside Winry to focus on the same provinces. "I'll get a ticket for Resembool."

"I want to touch his books and hug his clothes like a psycho," Winry somewhat laughed at the admission, "and put my face in his pillow and sob like a psychoneurotic schoolgirl. I just need to be in his bed."

Winry, Riza, and Rebecca, who had taken the exact stance of the two blondes against the rail, waited for the sun to be carried away on a chariot of fire. When the sun did reach its sleep, Winry mummified like a king of old. She arranged her side against the surface of the concrete roof, bending her arm under her head. Winry lost concern of dirtying, maybe even ruining, her sheer cover-up shirt and gray mid-thigh skirt. Riza's eyes fell and she shifted to Winry. Sitting on the musty roof of the hospital, Riza rolled Winry to lie on her back and rest her head on Riza's lap. Riza began stroking her hair while Rebecca halfway turned towards the damaged women and one of her hands lingered on the rail, the other still on the back of her neck, "Hey, I'm going to go. I feel like going home too. Just need rest. Be careful up here."

Riza waved her off, "Of course we will. We'll be going inside in a few minutes."

"See you two tomorrow," Rebecca bid farewell. _I hope_.

Sunset had long passed before Riza and Winry went back to the waiting worriers. Many had gone and freed up numerous seats. Gracia, ever the caretaker, conformed to Riza's prior orders and had taken Roman back to Roy's house where Maria was chaperoning Emile and Elysia (Madame Christmas gave the non-military supporters permission to his house). Gracia most likely had picked up Elysia from the general's house and safely resided in her apartment by now. Knox had departed to his apartment with Falman, Breda, and Fuery shadowing the doctor's example. Armstrong had retired to the Armstrong manner, unable to persuade Olivier to tag along. Sheska had indicated she had to go to the library to assemble suitable order.

Riza tugged Winry by the hand into the significantly darkened room. The residents heavily refrained from pointing out or questioning Winry's state or Riza's for that matter. Winry sunk boneless into a seat with Riza's help and she went to the seat next to Winry, Grumman on her other side. Riza hazily glanced at the clicking clock to see eleven twenty four, noting it was long past visiting hours.

Grumman nudged her arm, "I could pull a few strings."

Riza's eyes fastened, "I despise seeing him like that. I may go home for a few hours."

Vanessa, secretly anxiously, gulped her coffee and sat it on her knee, "I think what you mean to say is forgo the truth."

Riza's rabidity flooded in with her hollow eyes, "I've already broke my spine over the truth. And if you knew the unvarnished truth, I don't think you'd be so eager to bite your teeth into it."

Vanessa met her eyes defiantly, "You know what? I've been around the block a few times and I can tell you right now that if you don't stop running from the truth, from both of your mistakes, it will all catch up to you and knock you the fuck out." Vanessa didn't falter at Riza's face laden in sorrow. _I'm sorry but this has to be said._ "Before you flew down your red-brick road of revenge, you should have dug two graves first."

Jean, Madame Christmas, Grumman, Winry, and even Olivier were speechless and couldn't flex a muscle. "Trust me, braggart, I left long before I was gone. Roy and I both dug our own graves before I ever left. You may know Roy but you sure as fucking hell don't know me. And you don't have a clue how Roy and I function together. If you think you know a goddamn thing about Roy and me, then you're fooling yourself."

Vanessa felt further anxiety when she had to break it down, "Abandonment is something I understand perfectly. I know what's hidden in your words; _all_ the ones you've said since you got to the hospital. And you won't find yourself in your lies, Hawkeye."

Riza dug her fingernails against the arms of her chair, trying to control her ire, "I don't have to search for myself when my mistakes are gunning me down in the mirror."

Vanessa disregarded Riza's statement, "It's also clear to me that keeping secrets about where you disappeared to or about not telling Roy you were knocked-up is not something you think twice about. I might have a clue."

Vanessa was left mouth wide-opened when Riza surged from her chair and smacked the full cup of coffee off her knee, some scolding liquid trickling over her fingers. Riza cocked her elbow back, ready to crush her fist into Vanessa's face, but Jean dove in front of Riza to take the blow. He bear hugged her and to a great extent walked her backwards, "Riza, stop. Come on, stop. Don't."

Riza fought to slip out of Jean's arms, only succeeding to revolve Jean enough to see Vanessa, "Fuck you, you bitch! You want to know something you don't have a clue about, you piece of shit?" Riza tried to break loose again, but Jean clutched stiffer, "I'm not in fucking love with Roy Mustang! I have a goddamn kid! You think I'd have a kid with someone I didn't love? I am in love with someone else; this is a temporary arrangement for me to be here! I'm selling my house, I'm quitting the military, and I'm taking Roman back to Xing!" Vanessa donned a look of mortification, along with everyone else. Jean became so shaken by Riza's admission that his arms untied enough for her to push off him. "I came back because I love Roy, because we're best friends! I didn't come here looking for _your_ endorsement and I especially didn't come here to listen to _your_ bullshit!"

Seeing Jean was distracted, Riza walked to the far side of the room, beside Olivier, and picked up the cheap elfin, wooden side table then viciously threw it at Vanessa. The table fragmented into ligneous daggers and shards. Jean called her name and rushed to her, however, she was absolutely ready for him this time around. Ducking out of his path, Riza kicked one of her black leather combat boots into Jean's ankle while using her forearm to thrust him forward and he walloped to the floor. Riza's next move was to pick up the Bibles and reading material to start thrashing at Vanessa. Between and during every frisbee of paper she threw, Riza bellowed out, "I'm going to _love_ who I want!... I'm going to _fuck_ who I want!... I'm going to have a _baby_ with whoever I want!... I'm going to _leave_ whenever I want!... I'm going to _lie_ whenever I want!... I'm going to _smash in_ _your sinuses_ when I want!... I don't have to _explain_ myself if I don't want to!...I don't have to _stay_ here if I don't want to!... And I don't _have_ to be here for _Roy_ if I don't want to!"

"Riza Hawkeye, that's enough!" Grumman hollered and tried to make it to his niece.

Luckily, her assault ended when Jean was stenciled back into the picture, "Riza, calm down! Simmer down, Riza."

Riza couldn't view Vanessa but she was heard loud and clear, "But I want to be here for Roy. And if you can't accept that as it is, you can just fuck yourself." Winry had made her way to the woman blinded by anger and lured her from Jean's envelopment. Riza continued to fume until Winry took ahold of her. Then Riza wailed into her neck and latched onto her as a cornerstone.

Without warning, Rebecca prowled into the room, "I couldn't sleep at my apartment so I figured I'd come here and give Riza…" Rebecca broke off when she was brought into the edgy state of affairs drowning in Riza's tears like a dead body drowning in a watery tomb. "A…um… A hug! I came to give Riza a hug. But it's perhaps not the best time." Rebecca took the seat she was standing by in tangled stillness.

After about a minute of sobbing, Riza pulled back from Winry and pushed all her bangs and hair back with her hands and sniffled a few times. She straightened her shirt and cleared her throat and took her leave, Jean following her, leaving nothing but a killer's expression towards Vanessa. Winry was not so gracious, "How dare you talk to her like that? You just destroyed everything!" Winry grabbed her own hair, on the verge of yanking it out, "What could have possibly been going through your mind? You want him to be happy and now you've probably just chased away the one thing that _can_ _make_ him happy! What the hell's wrong with you?"

Vanessa scratched behind her ear, "I have to let her see that if she knew how bad she hurt him, she would never be able to look at him again. Roy would never tell her how hurt he is so I must establish it so she realizes that's the case." The embarrassed but enduring woman then rubbed her cheek, "That backfired."

Grumman scolded from the top of his lungs, "Gee, you think?" Olivier imperceptibly lifted an eyebrow, having never seen the fürher so truthfully intense. "Winry's spot-on! The last thing needed was another argument taking place! And we're going to have to clean up this mess! I call no's-ees on that one!"

"As tough as she is, I didn't think that brand of drama would be the reaction," Vanessa tapped her fingers on the arm of the seat.

Olivier peered unswervingly at Roy's foster mother's employee, "If you don't want drama, you need to keep your fucking mouth shut." Olivier soundlessly left the room to head for coffee, leaving further shockwave in the group that she namelessly but scathingly took up for Riza.

Riza tugged him along with her tracks, "Let go, Jean."

"I'm taking you to your house," Jean continued their tug-of-war.

Riza protested fervidly, "No, I'm going into Roy's room."

"It's past-" Jean eluded to the visiting hours.

Riza mumbled, "I don't give a damn. I'm not leaving the hospital."

"Riza," Jean sighed, "you just got into Central a few hours ago and you had to see Mustang like that and what just happened…you need to go home and sleep."

Riza murmured, "I can't leave him again. I'm not leaving the hospital at all."

"Against my better judgment," Jean set Riza free from him grasp, "I'll let you stay."

"I don't need your permission," Riza turned from the towering man and practically dashed to the ICU.

An exasperated sigh started in his chest and ruptured from his lips as he leaned against the wall. His forehead delicately dropped into his hand, "Goddamn it."

"I'm astonished you gave into that."

Jean rolled against the wall, his hand repositioned at his side, "What am I supposed to do, Rebecca? I've _never_ seen Riza like this. She's _never_ let anything put her emotions on display like this. She's always been able to withstand her barrier, keep her feelings cool, ya know?"

"Evidently she can't when it involves him," Rebecca jutted her thumb in the course Riza had gone. The corner of Jean's mouth twitched, "Come on, we need to talk. Let's go to the cafeteria so nobody can overhear us." While she told her counterpart of Olivier's comment while they leisurely routed to the vastly unoccupied cafeteria, Rebecca sat sideways in a seat she pulled out, the side of her torso bolstered on the back and her arm arranged over the top. Jean towed a seat back as to sit, but Rebecca jammed him back, "Nah, ah, ah. Go get me pineapple and a nectarine from the fruit bar."

Jean sportively narrowed his eyes, "You are too demanding." Nonetheless, Jean went to get the requested items when he noticed Olivier residing with sweltering black coffee in the far back of the cafeteria, facing away from him. He got the food for Rebecca then approached Olivier. "So what's up with you?"

"Don't bother me," Olivier crossed her legs.

"Why did you stick up for Riza and come to offer support for Mustang?" Jean incredulously shook his head, "That feels odd asking _you_ that."

"I've done nothing of the sort. I've come for national security. And saying that someone needs to keep their mouth shut if they don't want drama does not mean I'm sticking up for anyone."

Jean commenced walking away, "Just because you don't say it outright doesn't mean you don't have ulterior motives. Well, I have important shit to discuss, see you around I guess." Jean laid the fruit Rebecca asked for on the table beside her and admitted, "Olivier's on the other side of the wall."

"I thought she left," Rebecca's brows knitted.

"Nope, she's sitting over there. I asked her why she's acting out of character," Jean explained.

"What'd she say?"

Jean opened his pack of smokes and put one of the cigarettes behind his ear, "She said she wasn't sticking up for or supporting anybody."

"Well whatever, I'm not going to crack a mystery today. I have to show you what I had come to give Hawkeye," Rebecca picked a compactly creased piece of paper from her purse. "I thought she had a right to know. But after seeing her…it just wasn't the right decision. I didn't want to add insult to injury."

Jean glanced at her and fixed his eyes on the piece of paper with a seasick burden of what may have been written in black and white. Briefly pausing overtop the note, Jean pinched it up and unfolded the ominous item. His eyes progressed at full tilt and he crumpled it in his fist when he finished. Turning to Rebecca, Jean sorrowed, "Did Mustang write this?" Keeping the admission in his fist, he mindlessly admitted, "He blamed himself for all this? Ed, Al, Hughes? He couldn't have stopped any of that. He was trying to fuckin' kill himself."

"What an imbecile," Olivier stood beside the wall with her arms crossed. Rebecca and Jean's heads popped towards her, "After all the shit he's lived through, addiction is his disgrace. For someone that's the hero of the Ishvalan war and so strategically and alchemically supreme, he's dreadfully fragile."

Jean shot to Roy's defense, "Ya know, believe it or not Mustang has _feelings_. I know you can't possibly understand that." Olivier gave no smidgen of reaction, "I only know what Riza's told me, but after killing thousands of people in Ishval, he might of became a bit soft-hearted, but he's not weak-minded or fragile. I wasn't there, I don't know how bad the war was personally, but I know you weren't there either. So don't judge him like you were there or like you know how you would feel about burning countless people alive." Jean didn't falter under her unforgiving, odious stare, "I'll break something you can't understand down: when the one you love, the one that means the world to you, leaves, you have to ask yourself why. Roy asked why and came to the deduction that she left because she didn't love him. And it nailed him to a cross. So if being human means he's fucking fragile, it must mean you're made of stone."

Experiencing some confusion at Olivier's smirk before she turned to stalk away, Jean turned to the rapt smug look of the brunette, "Nice declamation."

"Natural born public speaker," Jean scornfully smiled. "Before we were so rudely interrupted, I was about to say that it's better we don't show this to Riza. _Ever_. She already thinks his overdose is her fault; we can't let this gnaw on her conscience too."

Rebecca nodded unhesitant, "Granted." Rebecca scooted the fruit further to the focal point of the table. "I've decided I don't want that anymore."

Jean rebuked, "You put me through all that for nothing!" Rebecca smirked at him. "Uh… Never mind." Jean used the table as a buttress to stand up, "I need a smoke, wanna come?"

"Not with you," Rebecca snootily crossed her legs and turned her head to the side.

Jean jovially grinned and extended his hand for her, "Oh, come on now, downgrade your standards. I mean, I just did."

Rebecca tucked her lips and seized his hand, her legs uncrossing as she bobbed up, "Prick."

Standing in the clammy nightfall, Jean remarked, "I don't get those two." Rebecca trodden around Jean to sit on a ramshackle bench along the cratered sidewalk and Jean took a load off next to her, "They're crazy about each other, I mean, they love each other more than anything, but it's come to this. They need each other like the damn day and the damn night; if one of them's gone, the other won't exist. Riza having a kid…it doesn't make sense."

Rebecca was distraught enough that she stole the cigarette out of Jean's mouth and took a drag, only to hand it back, "So you think they're in love with each other?"

Jean made an amused face, "Where the hell have you been? Of _course_ they're in love. I mean there's a pyramid of proof. A perfect example is the way they foam at the mouth at the _thought_ of the other's safety on the line. Riza's been known to go crazy angry insane when it comes to Mustang's safety and if Riza's in danger, Mustang has been known to use significantly more fire power than necessary to defend her." _It's kind of like Ed protecting Winry._

"Then tell me why Riza has a kid, wise guy. Riza said she'd fallen in love with a guy in Xing and that's why she hadn't come home until now."

Jean blew smoke in her face, "And she left the guy to come to Mustang."

Rebecca slugged him in the shoulder, "Don't do that again. And he's in a coma, Jean. Riza may take off while Mustang and she are fighting, but she'd never stay away knowing he's in a fucking coma."

Jean groaned in protest, "Oh, come on, Becca, Riza would do anything for him. Whoever this other guy is, she probably considers him cheap seconds because Mustang and she have a problem with nerves and professionalism. They love each other so much it makes them nervous so they hide behind professionalism. And Riza's, at all times, the one that gets close to laying it out where it needs to be but Mustang has to poke fun at her feelings to stop her from breaking the gate."

Rebecca, with a cloak-and-dagger undertone, commentated, "Well maybe someone else should kick the motherfucking gate open."

Jean flicked his burned up cigarette onto the concrete, "Let's wait and see what happens." He stood up and craned his hand in front of her once more, "We better get back in there; monitor the possible scene of carnage in there." Rebecca mumbled an agreement and took his hand to give a lift to her feet. They stopped in front of the door. Jean's hand settled on the handle and he jarred the door hallway open but he ceased with his finger holding the clutch down.

"Are you going to, I don't know, op_en_ the door?" Rebecca irascibly tapped her foot.

Jean didn't let go of the door handle but he reeled ninety degrees in Rebecca's stalled locality, "Rebecca…"

Rebecca exasperatedly stated and glared, "What?"

Jean used his free hand and smoothed along the hairline behind her ear, his thumb settling on her cheekbone just below her temple. Rebecca tried to downplay the gesture, "Jean, you are such a-"

Rebecca's eyes interlaced when their lips met. But Jean was aware of his boundaries and withdrew not more than a few seconds later. His hand loosened from the side of her neck, "You know I'd go through anything for you, right?"

Rebecca drew his hand down by his wrist, "Let's start with your bank account."

Jean laughed, "Well played. I gotta say though, I've missed this, Rebecca."

Rebecca's took a deep breath, "Look, Jean-"

He laughed again, "Forget I brought it up. Let's go in."

When he opened the door, Rebecca and he found Breda residing near the wall in a position he could see through the door. Rebecca turned scarlet and Jean's smile got bigger. Breda smirked, "Hey, _you guys_, I was just going to get my jacket out of my car. It's a bit nippy in the waiting room."

Rebecca stomped her foot and pressed, "When the fuck did you get here, you nuisance?"

"I believe someone said you guys were in the cafeteria when I arrived. Couldn't sleep so I came back." Breda waved them off. "Besides, there was an ass load of tension up there."

"Same with Rebecca," Jean said thoughtfully. "The not sleeping, I mean."

Breda choked a laugh in his esophagus, "Oh yeah, I'm sure. Couldn't sleep. Yeah, I'm sure."

"This is why you have no friends!"

_August 26, 1942, Muttenz, Switzerland_

"Is this typical shit with you two?" Luminista overshadowed Ed and Al, who were slaving over Gordian formulary and theorems, with work ethic as persistent as the devil. The Elric brothers had unremittingly studied and read for weeks on end without saying much of anything except to each other. "So…neither of you can to tell me why you're doing all this hocus-pocus?"

Al rolled on his back, dropping his shaved pencil, and groaned, "We're trying to find any way to get back to our world without a human sacrifice. We've been studying findings by chemists and physicists in this world to neutralize alchemic prospects."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Luminista vised her face with her hand from the piping hot sunbeams as she stood over the window seal from the outside looking down at the blondes, "but does that mean you're trying to combine alchemy, or um, transmutations with physics to open the portal?"

Al bent his elbow to rest his forearm over his bloodshot eyes, "You're right in a way. We've found a million ways to get more power with elements and natural resources to transmutations we wouldn't have been able to discover in our world, but finding…ok, no you're completely right. That is our motive."

Ed contributed, "But we're nowhere close. All we have is information that could empower our alchemy in Amestris."

"You said you're adding alchemy in with this research. You two don't have alchemy research, so how are you doing all this?"

Al uncovered his eyes and glimpsed at his brother, "We have a…significant memory of alchemy research. We kind of have photographic memories."

"You two are incredible," Luminista took a few steps back from the window, losing view of Al, "and I'm going to leave you two alone so I don't get stabbed in the eye during a rage of research mania."

Hearing Luminista promenade away, Ed lamented, "Al, what are we going to do? We keep going and going and nothing comes out of it. All we've found is equations that we could only use in Amestris. But we haven't got a lead, have no action within reach. I know which transmutation to use; I just can't find a substitute to human life. We already know human transmutation is dangerous and _bullshit_."

"We'll eventually find the substitute; it's a matter of time," Al reassured. "The worst problem is finding what it takes to rip the portal open. It only opened last time because I busted it on the other side. And it's destroyed so…so…so…so…oh my God."

Ed indignantly griped, "Goddamn it! We destroyed the portal; we'll have to make a new portal entirely!"

"So you think this is better or worse?" Al closed one eye and raised the eyebrow above the open one.

"Better in the way we don't have to find a fine cut solution and bad in the way that I have _no idea_ how to make a portal, if we even can. Especially without human and soul material, even if there was someone on the other side that had the same conclusion we may find."

"In other words…"

"We're fucked."

Al persuaded, "I'm not so sure about that, Brother. When have we ever given up?"

"You're right, Al," Ed inveterate, "we just have to find the motivation."

"You could have just said for Winry."

"I can't talk about her, Al. Just… We can't talk about her."

"Done. Ok. I won't," Al backed off.

Al oppressed a smile when Ed branched from his thoughts, "Winry just makes me worry. I just worry about her."

"Why?" Al fiddled his index fingers, looking at Ed.

"I love her so much and if we get back… What if she doesn't want anything to do with me, like if she moved on?"

Al laughed, much to Ed's bewilderment, "You can't begin to hear the hilarity coming out of your mouth!"

Ed turned his head away from Al, "It's not funny, Al. I really don't know what I'd do."

"New field of reference! This is preposterous! _That_ much time has not passed!" Al declared. Al proceeded on with reservations, "I bet you feel weird not being able to pull your hair back, huh?"

Ed reflexively touched his head, "Yeah."

"Hair is supposed to only grow in the region of half an inch per month, but yours has to be near three fourths a month. Imagine, another four months would be three more inches. Nine inches isn't bad; your hair will be back to your shoulders, maybe even longer if you hair grows even faster since your nutrition is substantively improving each month."

Ed was immobile in his sidetracked state, "Yeah."

Al bit his lip and attempted to drag out an answer, "Are you going to grow it back to the length it was?"

"I don't know," Ed's demeanor changed in the fact his frown deepened.

Distinguishing the presentation that his brother was distressed by the line of questioning, Al readdressed, "Well…I'm thinking of cutting mine."

This attracted Ed's responsiveness, "All of it?"

Al threw on a thoughtful expression, "Probably like I had before I lost my body; when we were young."

Ed adduced input, "I like your hair the way it is now."

Al picked up the end of his blonde hair, "Oh, yeah?"

Ed embraced himself, "But it's your decision. You wanna cut it, cut it."

Al beamed, triggering Ed to smile halfway when he said, "Then again, having hair like yours makes me feel like I'm intelligent enough to be arrogant."

Ed, retaining his asymmetrical smile, inquired, "Am I _that_ egotistical?"

"Kinda…" Al paused, "Definitely. When it comes to intelligence, you're egocentric. But if I had the head to dwarf Einstein's scientific conception like yours, I'd be more egomaniacal than you."

Ed dogmatically criticized, "No you most certainly would not. And stop projecting your proficiency to be less than mine. You're just as skilled and intelligent as I am."

Al mockingly scoffed, "Maybe if I sit down and write out equations and study up or have plenty of know-how in one zone, but-"

"Al, you're to the _nth degree_ selling yourself short," Ed closed the book he had been grinding and threw wide another.

Al looked at his pant leg, "I tried to act like you were there drilling me."

"Hey!" Ed got Al's attention as he tossed a pencil at his sibling. Al peered up instantly at his older brother, "You didn't need me to. You were astounding in Amestris. You blew my mind with the armor control."

Al tilted his head, "Answer me honestly: do you blame me for opening the portal and ruining-"

"Quiet down, Alphonse," Ed retreated to his hardback book. "Of course I don't blame you; I understand. I usually understand everything you do. And if you hadn't broken the lock, I wouldn't have gotten to see everybody again. Or use alchemy again. You wouldn't be here. I wouldn't have gotten to be with Winry and tell her I love her, even if I fouled it up a little. But I think I got my point across."

"Is it sad I wore clothes like yours because I felt like it would help me to be close to you and to think like you?" Al snickered.

"No opinion," Ed wrote something on a page of the book.

Al clutched a hefty sorrel book, underhandedly having every intention to pitch it at Ed in jest, but his fingers disconnected when a flash of Ed's petrified eyes cut across his mind, "Ed." The blonde looked at him in question, "Talk to me."

"I dreamt about Winry. She was drenched in blood, dragging people from some sort of a…battlefield. Not like in the middle of a war, just a violent situation. Maybe a confrontation between people. I don't know if it was her blood or someone else's," Ed made another footnote.

"No, Ed," Al enchained his brother's focus again. "We'll talk about that later, but I meant about Dachau. Talk to me about Dachau."

_August 30, 1942, Central, Amestris_

Riza was flooded with dreams of her note. The note she had jotted on stationary after she regretfully said she hoped Roy died ran like a subtitle in her mind, as realistic as it physically was hidden in her suitcase. _Bury me next to Roy._ The single-lined instruction mixed with jumbled memories and voices reminding her if Roy died, like she had a feeling he was to do, she'd have to utilize it. Then, Riza jumped out of her skin when she crash-landed from the sandman's limbo to Rebecca shaking her, "Riza! Get up! Roy's awake! The nurse said the doctor has just finished examining him for aftereffects and that he's awake!"

The name Roy and the term awake were the only words that got through to her, "Roy?" Riza slung the coverlet from her frame and tripped over herself getting off the chair. Everybody was standing at full attention, parting the seas when she surfed by. Some dimension of assuagement came over the worried friends.

When Riza breezed in the ICU, Roy was slathering his eyes with his palm and a nurse was recording vitals. His raven, oily hair fastened on the contours of his bedraggled face. The five-o-clock shadow was the most unkempt that Riza had seen in her time of knowing her second self. His eyes were discouragingly sunken and out-of-focus as they closed up. His hand slumped to the hospital bed beside his hip when the nurse stepped back and skated the beryl curtain across its supporting crossbar.

"Roy…" Riza called for his awareness with a falsetto voice, praying he wouldn't will her away. She ricocheted from her location to the end of his bed before his eyes were even open.

"Riza?" Roy centralized on the Judas that treated him as a pariah in her mind. "Don't."

Riza enclosed her fist in discomposure, "Don't what?"

"Don't apologize because I'm hurt," Roy muttered. "Apologize because you're hurt."

"There's nothing I can offer except apologies, General," Riza took her best shot at subduing her pain.

"Ya know, I really fucking wish you'd stop treating me like a stranger. I don't know why I'm in this bed but I do know you can call me by my goddamn name," Roy flailed his arm towards her, as if to exert influence, but his handicapped condition caused his arm to slip over the side of the mattress. Riza caught it. She figured her grip must have absorbed some soul because he meagerly gripped her hand in return, "What happened? Why am I in here?"

Riza brought her other hand to rest on his malleable shoulder, "You had severe alcohol poisoning." Her decibel level decreased, "You drank a fifth of moonshine."

"Where'd I get it from?" Roy groaned, rubbing the back of his wrist under his chin.

"I don't know…I wasn't here, remember?" Riza abated.

Roy's creased his sable eyebrows, "I'm sure you weren't _there, there_ but I-" Riza only shook her head, giving Roy all the hint he needed, "When did you leave?"

"Not long after you picked the fight with that guy outside the nursery, remember?" Riza elaborated blankly.

"The nursery? I had a fight outside of a nursery? Why was I outside a nursery?" Roy blitzed her with rambling questions.

Riza stared skeptically at him, "You were there when Winry gave birth to Emile."

Roy double-took, "Winry had a baby?"

"Yes, a baby…" Riza worriedly cupped her hand over his forehead, "You've lost your memory."

"Retrograde amnesia. They just said it a few minutes ago so they're probably breaking the news in the waiting room now. They said the amnesia shouldn't last permanently, but it may be a while. Plenty of kidney and pancreas damage though," Roy's head lolled but he regained composure abruptly. "Least I'm not brain dead, huh?"

Riza retracted her hand from his forehead to situate next to his hip, facing away from him. Her hand tautened around his hand as if he were anchoring her from floating to the heavens above, "Yes, I'm relieved you're not. Tell me about things that seem smoky to you. Ask me and I'll tell you. I won't abridge or rework any information."

Roy regarded her profile, noticing her sorrow, but chose not to bring it to the forefront, "Why did you leave?"

"I wanted a personal life and to have a family," Riza's lip barely quivered.

"What else? I know when you're hiding something," Roy indicted. At Riza's nonresponse, Roy recapped, "You said you wouldn't give me the edited figures, Riza."

"We were fighting too much," Riza disclosed with a sensation like ice freezing her body. "We were fighting like cats and dogs every day and I couldn't handle it anymore."

Roy scooted back and woozily sat upright, "I thought we stopped. We didn't keep fighting, did we?"

Riza sloped her face away from his view with the help of her hair, "Yes, we did."

Roy feebly tried to pull Riza by their zipped hands to him, at least in his direction, "Tell me what I did."

Riza resisted his physical and verbal urgings, "You were just so deep in the dark, I couldn't see how to pull you out."

Roy, like Riza, remained discreet in their tussle, "What did I do? You said you would tell me whatever I needed to know. So tell me."

Roy supposed he would have to strong-arm her from the long-drawn-out silence, but her guts spilled over like an overfilled pot of boiling water, "In this hospital, at the nursery, you tried to beat the hell out of me." To prevent interruption, she spouted out, "And when I would come to your house you would throw shot glasses and bottles at me and I'd walk in on you fucking people and you would bruise my arms because you would grab too hard when I was helping you get home in the middle of the night…"

"God, Riza," Roy felt like needles were pricking his skin and he bowled his hand under the back of her elbow, the other still buckled with her satiny fingers.

Thwarting any more excuses, Riza's voice broke, "And you told me you didn't love me."

Roy tugged at her arm, whispering her name, "But it doesn't matter; you wouldn't recollect any of it even if you didn't have amnesia. You were wasted all the time."

"What started all of this, Riza? You have to tell me," Roy besought.

"I don't wanna talk about that," Riza deflected.

Roy implored, "Look, whatever I did-"

"I _can't_ talk about it, ok? And it's not what you did, it's what we both did," Riza lightly pulled back on her arm but he wouldn't release her, "I'm not going to leave, just-"

"Look at me." Roy recognized Riza was holding back tears when her eyes met his, "What happened?"

"I gave you the power to destroy me."

"Why?"

"Because I trusted you not to."

"From the looks of it, you fucked that one up."

"No. No, you didn't destroy me. I'm not the one in a hospital bed."

_September 9, 1942, Resembool, Amestris_

"Winry, you need to get up today," Pinako raucously announced. "You've barely gotten out of that bed in three weeks."

Winry weaved her fingers into the opaline cotton bed sheets as she lay on her side facing the wall, away from Pinako. Her hand was entirely enshrouded in the cloth and her eyes funereally suffocated in tears as the rumpled comforter insulating her waist down. Winry cawed, "Granny… I've been strong for years and now I just feel like I've had to be a lion for too long."

Pinako felt a pang in her soul because she feared she was making a liar of herself, "Ed will come back. He wouldn't want-"

"Oh, please, Granny! I can't listen to anyone else fucking saying that! Ed and Al aren't coming back!" Winry's free hand crinkled the pillow she had situated beside her like a mirage of her lost love.

"Winry…" Pinako struck a match and lit her pipe, only to shake it out. "I love you and I know you're suffering. But you can't hide in Edward's bed for the rest of your life. Three weeks is enough; you have to come back to the land of the living."

"Mama, I come up," Winry felt the jerk of the sheet as Emile bade to scale to her. Winry turned over and upheld on the elbow and forearm to peer over the bed at her son. His trademark Xerxes eyes that shone like the sunrise coaxed her to lift him up, her hair tumbling over the side of the bed, and pull him into her chest. His atmospheric breath gusted onto her collar bone, his head lain on her palm, her other hand propped his lower back. "Why so sleepy forever?"

"I just miss your daddy," Winry closed her eyes.

"Where he at?" Emile spoke in his broken grammar.

Winry's teeth clattered, "I don't know."

"Why?" Emile coiled strands of his mother's squalid hair.

"Because I can't talk to him."

"Why?"

Winry's toes curled, netting the sheets between the pads of her toes and the upper edge of the ball of her foot, "I just can't."

"Why?" Emile pressed.

"Your dad had to go away because he had to take care of the people he loves, including you and Mommy," Winry tried to validate without diving into the uncut story.

Emile was curious enough to be a cat, "Why?"

Winry said her belief as the naked truth, "Because your dad is a saint."

Emile itched for clarification, "What that?"

"An angel with a big heart. A saint loves everybody a lot and wants everybody to be safe and happy."

"Angels flies, yes?"

Winry went under in a river of tribulation that was as black as sin, "Yes, they do, Angel Bird."

"I like Dada a angel. Come home?" Emile felt Winry's chest shakily rise.

_He won't_. "I don't know, Emile."

A loud banging from downstairs knocked the heart wrenching conversation out of existence. Pinako clutched the bowl of her tobacco pipe and removed the bit from her mouth as she stalked down the hall, "There's no need to bang the door down! Just hold on!" Winry didn't budge a finger as her grandmother voyaged to open the door. But her ears perked when she heard Pinako's alarmed cry, "Come in! Come in!"

Footfalls that were too fast and heavy to be Pinako rushed the stairs, "Winry! Pack what you need! We need to get out of here!"

"I'm in the second room on the right!" Winry informed. _Why is Izumi here_?

Izumi rounded the corner into the room, "We have to leave Resembool this minute. Sig and I were in South City to spend time with his family and Aerugan soldiers attacked us."

Winry sat up like terminal velocity, "Aerugan soldiers? Oh, fu-" Winry caught herself before she said the word in front of Emile, "-dge. It's actually happening!"

"What's happening? Why the he-" Izumi barely caught her slip up as well, "-patitis are they invading?"

"Amestrian Intelligence has been investigating the possibility that an impending war was at foot. They've had surveillance all over the borders for a while now," Winry stood, setting Emile on the floor and reached for her ponytail holder to pull her unwashed hair back.

"What do you mean 'borders'? Has Aerugo spread around all the country's border? How did Drachma and Creta not notice that?" Izumi chastised.

Winry yanked the old t-shirt Ed used to sleep in to its proper, untwisted state, "They've all aligned. Rebecca, Breda, and Fuery said that they all want to overthrow Amestris. Which sounds stupid because what the he-" Winry mentally slapped herself, "-llsapopinish are they going to do after they take it over? I mean, which country would control it? Sounds like a half-a-" _God, I have a filthy mouth!_ "-lter boy scheme to me."

"Whatever they've compromised must be promising if they've all buried the hatchet with each other." Izumi regained urgency, "Pack what you need. I'm afraid they'll come here if the military aren't mobilized right now."

"They should be," Winry walked past Izumi to the bearing of her room. "The generals gathered in Central for plans of action. But just in case, you're right, we should leave. I'm going to find a couple suitcases; you can take Emile downstairs while I get his and my stuff."

Izumi wrung her hands, "Sure."

Izumi made way into Ed's room, uninformed it was her ex-pupil's room, to fetch Emile. However, the turf did not give her the slip for long. Her feet went numb when she came upon mounds of alchemy books and disseminated pages upon pages of slackly transcribed alchemy notes that took up half of the room. Disorganized, thick volumes were turned in each direction, no corner of any of the books in configuration. The transmutation circles arid on the covers or sleeves of the books scorned her with their ownership. Izumi whipped her head to the other side of the room to be met with a closet teeming with black- black t-shirts, black muscle shirts, black jackets, black shoes, black pants. The most damning slice of evidence was a washed-out, somewhat frayed, red robe with a serpent swathed around a crucifix draped over the chair. Emile corrupted her thought process, "What doing, Zumi?"

Izumi heard Winry bark with the pair of inharmonious thuds and Winry blaspheming the contents of her clogged closet. Izumi kneeled in front of Emile and inclined onto her fingertips on the floor, "Do you know whose room this is?"

"Dada's," Emile beamed. "Mama say he a sent, uh, a real nice angel."

Izumi's eyelids slouched, "Your mama's right. Your dada's brother is an angel too."

"I got _two_ angels?" Emile made a flabbergasted, enthusiastic face.

Izumi enforced a smile, "Yes, you do." Izumi forklifted Emile into her firm arms that beheld a few cuts outlined with dried blood, "Come on, let's go downstairs, ok?"

Emile leaned back on Izumi's shoulder to maintain eye contact, "You out bed Mama."

Izumi slanted her head backwards with Emile in her crossed arms, "How long has Mama been in the bed?"

"Gran-Gran say three winks." Emile pouted, "Mama say bed sniffy-s like Dada so she don't get up."

_Oh, Winry…_ Izumi twisted around to take Emile to the kitchen downstairs where Pinako and Sig waited. She saw Winry near the stairs first.

Winry's hands were folded behind her back, a couple hand suitcases against the wall by her feet, as she loitered at the top of the stairs, "I needed to feel close to him. The bed smells like leather and cloves and… I don't know how to…" Winry unwittingly clutched Ed's shirt against her stomach, "I'm just going to brush my hair and get our stuff together really fast." Izumi examined the unchanged solid, pale blue t-shirt and newly donned cut-off jean shorts that ended mid-thigh, "Then we can go."

Without badgering Winry, Izumi freighted Emile downstairs to leave Winry to her own devices. Winry jacked one of the suitcases up by its rickety handle to plod back into her room where the few traveling items she had collected for Emile and her were on the floor. She kept a good deal of Emile's things in a diaper bag and packed the rest in the stonewashed cream and dull brown suitcase covered in black scuffs. The items took up a little over half the span of the suitcase, give the blonde hope to fit more in.

Speeding to scoop up the other bulky suitcase on her way down the hallway, Winry quickly scampered into Ed's room. She threw the suitcase on the floor and began tucking things in it. She ransacked the comforter from the bed, snugly compacting it and flattening it on the wall of the suitcase, tailed by the sheets. She gathered some of Ed's handwritten summaries cluttering the floor to insert them into the three unsystematically-chosen books she set over the comforter and sheets from Ed's bed. Next, she bustled to his closet and took out one of each articles. She took a shirt, a jacket, a pair of leather pants, a tank top, and his button-down shirt, folding them one by one and padding them on top of Ed's books and writings. She soared back to the closet to chuck out a pair of his boots into the hallway and looked in the back of his closet for one of his belts. Heedlessly flinging in the belt, Winry put all of her weight onto her hands a handful of times to squelch the contents then zipped the full suitcase up.

She overstepped Ed's shoes on her way towards the flight of steps and left the luggage at the top. She nudged back down the wall, once again overstepping the shoes and surged into Al's room. She rummaged around the room, collecting things she had come to associate with Al after the return of his body. Like when he and Ed were younger, Al would return to Resembool once in a while and leave things without thinking. Winry snatched a pair of clean white gloves, a supple black journal he had started but never had the chance to finish, a rosary he found from when he took a holiday to the ruins of his family's house, and a mini-sized caldron of white sage, something mythologized to purge malevolent spirits. Popping the items in her arms, Winry left the room, picking up Ed's boots as she made her way back to her room. She jam-packed Al's things and Ed's shoes into her half empty suitcase and jammed it close.

Taking the luggage down the stairs, Winry sat her belongings by the door, "Granny, do you have your things?"

"Yes, Winry," Pinako sighed. "It's a shame to say it's time to leave." Winry bent over to pick her suitcases up again, but Sig beat her to it, despite Winry's remonstrations. Pinako investigated, "Why do you have two suitcases? You barely brought a fu-" Pinako stammered when she saw Emile come to her mother's side, "-fu-fu-futtock thing." Looking from Izumi's grimace from behind Winry to Winry's eyes falling to the floor, Pinako caught on rapidly, "But whatever makes you feel better, I suppose."

Izumi strained to take away some pressure, "We'll have to drop by Dublith for some things for me and Sig and then we'll stop at Rush Valley for more of your and Emile's things, Winry. Then we're going to Central."

Pinako and her granddaughter nodded in agreement. The suitcases were saddled into the snug-tight fit of Sig's burnished black vehicle and Sig sat behind the wheel with Izumi sitting up front and Pinako filing into the back. Winry had Emile in her arms, about to deadbolt the door, though it may not have even mattered if the incursion happened, but froze with a gasp as an epiphany knifed her mind. Winry set Emile on the porch, "Emile, you stay _right here._ Mommy needs to go get something." Ignoring Izumi calling out for a reason of her actions, Winry dashed inside and up the stairs. Barreling to the second room on the right, Winry scudded back into Ed's room.

She held up a red coat with a serpent swathed around a crucifix on the back, tears accumulating in her eyes at the thought of almost leaving the item.

She spun the coat around her arm and sailed back outside. Once she had the door crammed shut again, Winry bolted the lock. Spinning around, Emile had disappeared from the porch so Winry called out, "Emile! Where did you just go? Get back here _right now_!" Winry heard giggling from the side of the porch opposite from the side the car was parked on, "Emile, come here now! We have to leave! Something bad's happened and we have to go! _Now, mister_!" Emile made his way to the bottom of the porch, waiting near the front of the rail for his agitated mother to come down the porch's steps. "Maybe my imaginary Ed's reaction scenario was right and I shouldn't have let you learn to walk," Winry grumbled.

"Winry!" Izumi cried out, "Get down!"

Winry looked to Izumi only to look back to her side that Emile was on and saw men in pomegranate and black uniforms coming from behind the side of the house. With lowered guns. No more than forty feet away from the mother and child, an Aerugan soldier took aim at Emile. Winry heard her name before she lunged to shield her son.

So came the gunshot.


	10. The Off-Color Wisdom of Blind Righteousn

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do not own the manga/anime characters, plots, or creation.

**Bless My Body, Bless My Soul**

**By TheKennethAnger**

Chapter 10: The Off-Color Wisdom of Blind Righteousness

**Forsan miseros meliora sequentur**** - ****For those in misery perhaps better things will follow. (Virgil)**

_November, 5, 1942, Central, Amestris_

"I swear I'm not traumatized, Riza," Winry waveringly smiled.

"I just want to make sure you aren't having post-traumatic stress," Riza assured as she watched Emile and Roman make merry in her old apartment.

Winry shook her head in assurance, "None of that. Izumi took care of Emile and me and we're just fine. But Ed's jacket…" Winry gazed at his red jacket draped over one of Riza's chairs placed around the kitchen table. A tear assembled in her right eye, hazing her vision except for a red distortion. She dammed the remainder of her crystal tears for the sake of their sons' presence. "I just wish it wouldn't have been damaged like it is after I dove onto the ground. But the world keeps turning, I suppose."

"Izumi could probably fix it you know," Riza suggested with a smile.

Winry wrung her hands in restlessness, "I want it the way Ed made it and I don't any modifications made to it. That's not Al's; it's Ed's. It was the last one he transmuted."

"It _won't_ be the last one, Winry."

After Riza's declaration, Winry excused herself to bed, going into the plain white-walled guest room with small depictions of canaries being the only decorations. Winry pulled back the blue duvet on the bed after flicking the lamp at the bedside on. She prepared the bed for sleep and went back into the living room to scoop up Emile. Knowing that Riza was eyeing her every movement, Winry flagrantly slid Ed's coat from the back of the chair it was hooked over to bundle in her arms. She took her two most prized possessions into the guest bedroom and situated both of them into the bed with her.

Riza led Roman by the hand into the guest bedroom and her lips suctioned together, creating a deep frown, when she found Winry lying on her side, her hair splayed into floating angel locks against the navy blue pillow. Emile cuddled his back against the warmth of his mother's chest and he curled into a fetal position with Winry's bicep lying over his mid-drift, her elbow resting on the bed and her forearm stretched the length of Emile's upper body. His tightened hands lay in Winry's palm and she breathed into his hair. What broke Riza's heart the most was Ed's red jacket. Winry had spread it on the bed on the other side of Emile, as though Ed and Winry would be an embryo for their baby.

"Winry," Riza knocked lightly to grab the grieving woman's attention, "do you mind if I leave Roman in here with you tonight?"

Winry didn't even open her eyes to pat the bed behind her back that would be the position opposite of Emile's, "It's fine. You go check on Roy."

"I'll be back later tonight or early morning," Riza assured. "Goodnight, you three; I love you."

By the time Riza arrived at Roy's brick-made mansion, she noticed an unfamiliar car was parked at the end of Roy's meticulously landscaped front yard and mused who it was. Vigilantly walking into the household, Riza searched for signs of who was there. What she found was strange indeed.

Grumman was sprawled on Roy's plush couch, sunk in the luxury of oblivion. Raising an eyebrow out of absolute confusion, Riza walked by him to leave the room without taking her eyes off his face. His glasses were jostled to the side of his face, exhibiting his sealed, rugged eyelids, and his nose time after time discernibly twitched. Riza pushed into Roy's bedroom to find the man dormant. She boosted the sheet and cover further up his chest and arms then pushed his wild ebony locks from his face. Even in his slumber, Roy had the face of a beaten down warrior, primed for a life of thousand yard stares and melancholy to eat at the hopes of his life's seams.

Riza sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her black boots from her tired feet and swung her legs onto the bed. She relaxed on top of the covers and lowered onto her flattened back, heaving a sigh of happiness to be lying down. Mere inches divided the estranged friends but it felt like miles, matching their emotional separation. She closed her fluttering eyelids but couldn't find sleep.

"Is General Mustang compos mentis?" Grumman whispered from the doorway.

Riza lightly smiled at Roy's undemanding, serene face turned against the pillow as she rubbed under his left ribcage, "Well, his pneumonia is subsiding; Dr. Caputo didn't miss a beat when he said it could take four weeks to overcome. It's scary that bile discharged into his lungs when he was vomiting." Riza sustained her massage, adding in vigorously pressing her middle and index fingers in eclipses precisely above his left hipbone, indifferent that Grumman was present, "But I thank my lucky stars the pneumonia is moderate so he could stay here," Riza waved her hand around Roy's room, "healing with oral antibiotics instead of having to have them administered in the hospital." Riza faltered a bit when Roy erupted into a violent coughing fit, "He was bitching about having aches on his left ribcage mid-way up earlier today." Riza gave her gaze to the fürher, "I just want to make sure he's not in more discomfort than earlier."

Grumman urged tacitly, "He's not as lenient as he seems, Hawkeye. You have hid a sacramental part of your life from a man that loves you more than his own skin. I'm stunned he hasn't been taking blows by now."

Riza unwittingly mashed her shin and bent knee against the curve of Roy's ribcage after she sat up, "As am I. It's possible his illness is stopping him from going ape shit. Vanessa was right; Roy has trouble expressing his pain without provocation." Riza dropped her hand onto the center of his sternum temporarily, "I feel better now I've made amends with Vanessa. She was just speaking factuality. And I couldn't face it at the time. Now I have to face him and I'm…the most paralyzed by what he's going to do when the infection wears off and he's aware enough to have real anger."

"How was Winry today?" Grumman went off the subject of Roy's impending raw emotions.

Riza replied, "Pinako was already conked out on my bed and Emile, Winry, and Roman were on their way to fairyland in the guest room. With Izumi, Sig, and Mason at Gracia's, I called them earlier this evening to make sure everything was ok. I know Winry wanted to stay with Izumi because she feels safe with her but I just don't have enough space. Anyway, I guess we're all grateful Izumi has freak reflexes."

Grumman ventured, "I am amazed by her instincts. Winry said Izumi transmuted the earth wall on the eleventh hour. I was going to ask you. Winry seems to act like nothing happened."

"Well, Winry has nerves of steel. Another thing that Izumi had superb instincts for, by the way, is knowing how to make Winry feel basically as safe as she did with Ed. _And_ she had the instincts to exit Resembool. They should still stay in Central even though General Eden Mamba has counterstruck and recovered Resembool and Ishval and Yous Well for the most part," Riza commented. Riza strung her hair to one side of her neck and peered at the old man, "Olivier predicted this invasion shit and she's probably right about the point of attack."

"That's why I'm persistent about Mustang's health," Grumman folded his arms behind his back. "I can't be a one-man band of defending Central. I need his intellectual and alchemic abilities for this war. He's an element that cannot be bartered; no matter how convinced General Armstrong is. His flame alchemy and scheming are musts."

Riza's protector predisposition fired up, "He's out of kilter and his body is strained, Fürher; he is in _no shape_ to be living up to those punishing expectations. He ignored his injuries once before and after that…I will _never_ let him do that again."

"It's not your decision," Roy rolled onto his hurt side with a groan. "I'm needed and you can't tell me that my fucking moronic choices override pulling Amestris out of fire."

Riza fretfully planted her hand on Roy's shoulder and pushed him into his former position, forced to meet his sharp eyes, "Lay down, sir."

"_Well_…this is my cue to retreat," Grumman scuttled out of the room, carrying the door to latch behind him.

Roy let loose, "Don't think you're going to tell me what to do, Riza. After all that's happened, don't add salt to my wound."

"That wasn't my intention," Riza assured. Roy became evasive and turned away from her. He arose onto his forearms and a few coughs broke through. He eventually sat up correctly and swung his forelegs over the side of the bed. Taking a trifling number of drowsy breaths, he stood off the bed, only to drop backwards with his torso slapping onto the foamy surface. Riza dove to grab Roy, stopping him from slipping off the bed. She heaved him up with a choked groan from the back of her throat and relocated him back onto the bed, "Your fever has caused you lightheadedness; you can't even stand on your own two feet, General. I can't allow you to get up yet."

"Why can you call me Roy to anybody you talk to except me?" Roy's head lulled back, looking up at Riza.

She propped up the back of his head, lacing her fingers in his black hair and compassionately cupped his face, "I don't know."

Roy tossed himself out of her grip again, turned over on the bed and hovering onto his forearms as he had before. His lifeless locks flowed over his face as his eyelids vetoed light. He kept his neck unbending and laid nose-first just before the bed, "It makes me sick that you fucking ran away from me, but not half as sick as it makes me that you buried this from me."

Riza bound her hand around Roy's wrist, "What do you want me to have done, General? Lie and say I wanted you to know I had a child? Or-"

"Stop calling me general, Riza, goddamn it!" Roy slammed his free hand onto the satiny bed.

"Wasn't that your demand?" Riza murmured with a jarring undercurrent.

Roy wheezed without exposing his eyes, his back inflated immensely with coughs. Once the coughs died down, he confirmed, "Over a damn year ago when I was being an asshole, yes. I was trying to treat you as much of a stranger as you did me. So before you point any fingers, you should really make damn sure your hands are clean."

"I didn't mean to…" Riza squeezed his wrist, "I didn't have intent to make you feel that way."

"You did a pretty fucking good job for something that wasn't purposeful."

Riza relocated her hand to the back of his neck, "I never wanted to hurt you, sir."

"What did I just fucking say about that shit, Riza?" Roy jerked away from her hand and feebly pushed on her bicep, only to slouch into her arms again. "God, it's easier to talk to a wall! A wall doesn't run or push me away!"

Riza knew he was referring to the formality 'sir' but she couldn't hold out any longer, "When you're better off…I'm going back to Xing, Roy."

"Why the hell are you doing this to me, Riza?" Roy lugged away from her with the use of his twisted grip on the sheets. Riza was met with resistance when she tried to yank him back to her, "Just let me go."

"I can't," Riza crossed solely on her knees towards him.

"Sorry you were so goddamn unhappy here."

"Roy-"

"Your duty is discharged. You're free to go. Get the fuck out of here."

"Don't start that again, Roy! Don't shove me away like last time."

"_I_ didn't leave _you_. You started this shit but blamed me for it so you could have the _excuse_ to push me away. I've done a lot of half-baked shit in my life but depending on you has been the worst." Roy quieted, "Just leave, Riza, there's nothing more to say."

For the first time in the entirety of knowing her, Roy heard timidity in Riza's voice, "Would you have come after me?"

"Of course I would have." Roy slid his shins and knees down the edge of the bed until his feet skidded to the floor. He push-upped from the side of the bed and stood wobbly, "I can't believe you ever thought I wouldn't."

Roy went to the door with fluttering eyelids. In his bemused state, it took a few seconds to realize the warmth that cloaked his shoulder was Riza's hand encasing his shoulder from behind, "I missed you, Roy Mustang."

Marching out of Riza's grip, Roy progressed closer to the door, "So stay."

"I don't think I can," Riza tried to reserve the actual emotions she was feeling.

Roy stabled his hand on the drywall beside the doorframe, the other hand circled the doorknob, "Then you shouldn't have come back."

Riza felt obstruction in her windpipe, "Don't, Roy."

"It wasn't the alcohol," Roy proclaimed and opened the light-weighted door.

Riza propelled forward determinedly to securely clutch his shoulder once more, "What wasn't?"

"It didn't create or exacerbate the want for suicide. I deliberately made that decision while I was sober."

"What?" Riza's arms cut down and she lugged him by the shoulder to face her. He met her chatoyant eyes, although unable to find them long as a hand came across his face, "How could you, you stupid bastard?" Roy's vision became even blurry when her fist slated into his cheekbone. Roy was unsteady and careened back a few steps onto the wall, bearing her against him as he seized her wrist to poise himself. Riza didn't relent, "You're so fucking stupid, Roy!" She wrenched her arm from him as her eyes blackened, "Goddamn you."

Roy reinforced his balance with his elbows, forearms, and hands against the wall, "I didn't think you'd ever come back."

Riza knotted her hand into his king-size sleeping top and gave a half-hearted whack to Roy's chest, "You're so goddamn stupid."

"What do I have to do to make you stay?" Roy escaped Riza's fuming hold and crookedly slinked to the genteel floor.

Riza stood over the man then took a seat beside him on the floor, back leaning against the wall, "What do you want me to say, Roy?"

"Why." Roy bowed his head a touch towards her, "Why did you choose him?"

Knowing who he was talking about, she explained, "I loved him. I still love him."

"No, I don't believe that," Roy sighed, though his self-assurance was starting to get holes in it.

Riza curled her legs against her asphyxiated chest, "Believe what you will."

Roy wound his face further to her to scrutinize her eyes, "I'm not Winry, Riza." Her lip pulsated, foreseeing his irrefutable argument, "I've known you for over a decade. I am aware when you're being mendacious. Remember when you were appointed as Bradley's assistant? And I had all those flowers and I called you to ask if you would take some? Then I asked you if something was wrong and you told me no, that everything was fine. I knew you were freaked out about the homunculi and paranoid about Pride being in the shadows of your apartment." She only peered at him blankly, "Why do you feel the need to lie to me?"

After a few minutes, Riza tilted her head backwards onto the wall, "You're right. I didn't want him to be the father."

"Then why is he?" Roy raked his hand through his hair.

Riza sewed her eyelids closed to hide her discomfort, "I wanted a baby."

"No, you didn't," Roy faintly laughed.

Riza turned her head towards him to stare at his profile as she sneered, "I wanted to feel close to someone. Is that a crime in your book of double standards?"

Roy turned his head and met her eyes, "I don't bullshit you like you're implying. I've never lied to you, Hawkeye. And I know you aren't talking about the kind of intimacy I'm offering, that it's not the same lovingness you're searching for, but you could've been close to me through our friendship."

"Oh, please. I gutted through isolation with our friendship. And I can't take it any longer. It's just not satisfying anymore. Besides, our harmony has become so offbeat that I don't think our friendship could ever offer what it once did," Riza sadly sued, finding herself in a staring contest with Roy.

Roy straightforwardly admitted, "Well there's no one else I'd rather be close to than you."

"How could you have…drunk all that shit, Roy? I mean, why?" Riza maintained her eye contact.

Roy scoffed and rolled his eyes as though the response was evident, "God, is it that much of a cliffhanger to you, Riza? I can't live on without you; I come unglued."

Riza refused to be defeated in their staring tournament, "I had a note. If you died in the hospital…I had a note."

His eyes cuttingly closed in resentment and he caught Riza's forearm for emphasis, "Riza, you had better not ever follow me like that."

"I'd have to," Riza puffed out.

"I know you want to stay here; stay with me." Riza remained mute as Roy swore, "Just tell me the fucking truth."

"Fine," Riza's eyes taped and lost their glimmering sheen, "I don't want to go back to Xing."

"Then don't," Roy bit by bit retracted his hand from her forearm, his fingertips skimming over her skin.

Riza walked the brightly lit conduit to caving in, "I can't handle you liquored up."

"Then I won't drink," Roy finally abandoned his eye contact and slid horizontally across the wall and laid on his side, his body reverse from Riza. "Just… don't leave me, ok?"

"Roy…" An acknowledgment absconded from his throat, all passion from before became held in reserve, "I lied."

Roy contemptuously snickered, "Tell me something I don't know."

Riza folded her calloused fingers, "I'll never be able to forget what happened."

Roy adopted a somewhat pompous tenor, "Neither will I. I'll never forget how you wasted me."

Riza conceded, "You're right. I'm sorry I only realized how important you are after I destroyed everything. It wasn't supposed to be the way it was."

"I honestly fucking tried, Riza," Roy sewed his eyes out of upset. "You though I was a lost cause."

Riza warily refuted his insinuation, "I never said that."

Roy jeered out of rancor, "You didn't have to."

"You will always be my best friend; never a goddamn joke or whatever else you've stuck in your mind."

"Sure," Roy heaved coughs after his weak and empty acceptance.

Riza rested a hand on his sock-covered ankle. He tried to release it from her hold but she would have no part in it and squeezed, "Hey, don't let me leave."

_February 4, 1943, Schmettenau, Switzerland_

"He keeps reverting back," Al was awed by the outer space he dwelled on. His ebony angora scarf was near the point of asphyxiation as he pulled at it. "I can't wake him up, you know? Everything I do…it gets through for a bit and then it just gets blown to kingdom come."

"I'm going to give a stale story, as I nauseatingly do, and give you some advice," Luminista exhaled noisily. "I know you most likely want to strangle all my stories-"

Al grinned, though it was hidden by the nightfall, "No, quite the contrary. They bring me a sort of relief, like an impartiality from all that discomforts me; something to brood over."

Luminista's head was adjacent to Al's as she rested with her body in the opposite direction, gazing into the same the night sky, when she rolled her eyes, "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure. Anyway, when I was eighteen I became fixated with religions. I mean all of them: Babism, Christianity, Protestantism, Catholicism, Islam, particularly Sunni Islam, Judaism, Unitarian Universalism, Buddhism, Linji mostly, Hinduism especially, every domination of Hinduism, Jainism, Confucianism, some East Africa religions, Mysticism, Occult, Left-Hand Path, which is stuff like Satanism. There are thousands of creeds out there but those were the main ones I got into exploring. I mean, I really delved into all that, met with people affiliated with the religions. They all basically come from similar roots and are dominations of one another. My indulgence may have been a problem, but whatever. Onward," Luminista laughed at herself.

"There was a story in the Old Testament or the, what's called, the Hebrew Bible that's called the Book of Micah. So Micah was put through persecution and had to bear unbecoming conditions in his physical life but he had the belief that he would be washed of the wicked he became a target of. Basically, he was supposed to find power in his spirituality to overcome trials.

"Then, if that's not applicable, in Buddhism, supporters work towards Bodhi, which is enlightenment, and it denotes to a sort of patience that you shouldn't harm those that damage you, you should just endure. Take it, break it, and overcome." Luminista rolled onto her side, her forehead relaxing against the side of the top of Al's head, "Then there's a primeval religion called mythology. There's hundreds of gods, in a way comparable to Hinduism, and they fall into categories. My favorite is Roman mythology. There's a goddess named Angeronia that allegedly brought liberation to men put through tragic, demoralizing sorrowfulness; that there are things to bring you through. Then there's a belief in Hinduism that says anguish of one life comes from a past life's sins, such as greed. They call it karma. I have faith in in karma, but I don't think that relates to Ed.

"Most religions, I think, applies to Ed's emotional chaos and how he must find his own sanctity, not necessarily in a religion, but something for peace. I can sense that he would not have been gluttonous in a past life; I think karma has cheated Ed because he's a very virtuous person. And I know you're going to say Winry brings him peace, but true peace can only come from within- in my opinion that is. Who knows? Maybe I'm a dumbass that's construing everything wrong."

Al curved his elbow to interlace his fingers into Luminista's auburn tresses, "So you think that Ed must find a window inside himself and find for a peace that could come from nowhere or can come from anything?"

"If you want to be so black and white about it, yes."

"All that you said enchants me, Angel. I think I will ease that type of philosophizing into Ed. He needs tranquility from something. Though I'm not sure you're dead-on that it can't be from me or Winry. What if he doesn't find an ethereal being?"

"He doesn't have to. Sometimes harmony can come from knowing you're a good individual. I just believe Ed doesn't feel like a moral person after all that has happened. He felt like that prior to Dachau and it, to say the least, Dachau convinced him he had no morals," Luminista theorized.

Al's thoughts coasted to something he was interested to hear Luminista conjecture about, "By the way religion, what does any of it say about omens?"

"Omens are inherent in religion. Any religion, period. Why?" Luminista nestled her nose further into Al's hair to hide from the frosty air.

"I had decided not to bother you with it, but Ed has been having, what he reasons, are omens. He has a reoccurring dream that Winry's going to die, or rather have something gruesome happen to her, and it's driving him crazy…er. So my enquiry is does any of those religions suggest advice about fear-provoking things? You know, like death?"

"You're so ingenious and able to decode the world yet you can be so dumb sometimes, Al," Luminista softly and facetiously knocked her knuckles into the opposite side of his head. "Of course they do. That's called comfort. I could give you a gang of examples but I'm not in the mood anymore. You should just know that comfort comes _like_ death; you never know when it's going to happen and you never know what will cause it. If Ed finds that harmony we were talking about, it will bring him unlimited comfort. These nightmares could be his restless mind. Or maybe they _are_ eyes into another world. We can't say. But even if there is something happening to Winry, he will need to find contentment from within his own soul. It's just a part of the human condition. And it's hard to explain if you haven't felt it."

Al barred his eyes from the sky of emptiness shimmering above, "Do you think if there _was_ a god or a succession of gods that he or they or she, whoever, would let Ed be given what he has? The trials and unwarranted burdens and the things he's seen or losing Winry or Mothe-"

"Ed didn't and doesn't warrant any of those things. But even with a god or gods consenting to Ed's tribulations, you must take into account that good is in symmetry with evil. In other words, when the protection of an omnipotent being is lifted, malevolence sucks you in. Maybe things Ed had gone through and is still fending off is a test. People don't want to accept something that the test of good is overcoming evil and difficulties from your spiritually, even if you're an atheist. _Something_ inside of us leads us to something we deem harmony. But people have their own ideologies, and maybe in reality mine are fucking wrong, but beliefs can't be swayed by people. I will never waste my time attempting to change an opinion. I simply encourage people to find an opinion. Including you, Al."

"I'm crossing my fingers that Ed doesn't lose himself to a malevolence. He's already lost too many battles and I'm afraid he's going to lose the war." Al sighed, "_My_ outlook is that without evil, there's no humanity and that's shit. Because there _is_ good. And I agree that Ed's been deluded into believing he's a bad person, which will cause problems for his dominating good. These nightmares are sucking him in because he isn't in Amestris to care for Winry. If something happens to her, when we get home, he'll point the finger at himself because that's the Elric way; because he's not present to stop anything. Ed blames himself for things he can't control and that deteriorates him enough that his good can be overridden by an evil, one that Dachau aggravated. But I'm just as fidgety as him for different reasons. Maybe we should work on ourselves and damn any doubts. If I know Ed, we have similar doubts. One part I disagree with you about is that I think you don't have to find your calm on your own. Sometimes peace is easier to find with someone who comprehends and relates. Ed and I have never had an incident we couldn't help each other with, even if it took us a while to figure it out. Winry would never want to see him in the state he is now and I'm just not enough alone. He needs Winry and if he thinks he's lost her, he'll lose the slice of the Ed I knew to the madness plaguing him."

Out of the blue, a scream came from the cabin nearby and Emilien ran out, "Al, I think Ed's had another dream!"

"Oh, Ed…" Al jerked up and jogged to the cabin, hearing Ed's guttural yell again. "Ed, calm down!" Al demanded as he made his way through the cabin. Hurling open the door, Al drew near Ed as if he were afraid of dropping through ice on a frozen lake.

"Al, Winry…something's going to happen to Winry," Ed's unbounded golden locks shaded his halcyon orbs from his younger brother while he kneeled on the grimy, woodlot cabin floor. His head dangled between his parted hands, which held onto the opposite front corners of the flaked plank nightstand. His bent arms let go only just enough space to hold his forehead away from the perimeter of the bedside table.

Al stooped onto bent knees to lodge his hand over Ed's shoulder blade, "You're just worried about the Nazis, Ed. They haven't seized Switzerland and from the looks of it, they aren't going to even make a stab at it. Your concern is just coming from bad memories."

"No, Brother," Ed tautened his digits on the ledge of the table. "These incubuses have advanced into visions when I'm awake. She's saturated in blood. I keep hearing her voice and her pleading for me to protect her and for me to come home. That I be a messiah from her pain. We _have_ to get home, Al, or I'll just die. My soul has already rotted and now I'm making myself sick with these horrors." Al, after months of working up to physical contact, was able to rub small circles in Ed's back, deciding to listen instead of interrupting, "These are premonitions, not fucked up dreams. I can sense a dangerous situation for Winry and it's killing me."

Ed roughly and angrily slammed his hands against the edges of the nightstand, causing the cream paint of the wall directly behind the table to chip off in chunks. The glass, kerosene lamp on the table teetered back and forth until it crashed off the slick surface into chunks of broken shards.

"God, come out where ever you are." Ed's voice broke, "She's been victimized enough. Don't let something happen to her. Take anything; my other arm, my other leg. Just don't…"

Al's eyes sealed shut. _After everything that's happened…never concerned about his own wellbeing._

_May 18, 1943, Kaurey Lake, Pulchritude Park, Dublith, Amestris__._

"Emile! Roman!" Riza ran across the lowland of the park with Winry streaming behind her.

Riza's car had only been about a hundred feet away from the entrance gate to the ancient park, which was located on the edge of Kaurey Lake and littered with towering trees. Winry and Riza had been on their way back to the car with Emile and Roman trotting quite a bit ahead of their mothers. The boys had skipped through the right side of gate, which had a crumbling stone arch framed with smothering moss on the outer edges that emphasized corroding cast iron gates bordering the sides. When Emile and Roman were almost out of view, a man of small stature grabbed the boys by their shirts. Winry had shrieked and Riza's feet took flight.

Riza was still a significant distance from the gate when Winry frantically yelled with a high-pitched voice, "Riza! Get your gun out!"

Riza mentally shot herself, "I left it in the car! I didn't think I'd need it!"

Riza's feet moved at warp speed and she was far ahead of Winry, only getting further. Winry saw Riza veer to the right once she flew through the gate. Pendency spread like wildfire and the possibilities of what was going on were endless. Winry broke around the corner of the medieval gate to a stumbling halt a couple dozen feet from Riza, three men, and their sons. Winry stole a few glances at Riza's attempt to fend of the fiends before she heard Riza command, "Get the gun in my car! Now, Winry!"

Winry became an unquestioning speed demon and tried to get Riza's forgotten gun. Unfortunately, Winry made it only a few feet before she was wrenched back by the shoulder then a strong arm wrapped around her torso, ensnaring her elbows against her ribs, rendering her arms immobile. "Let go of me, you bastard!" Winry dropkicked her legs and squirmed to get away. Within seconds, Winry was dragged back to the battle near the decaying arch.

Winry's tussle and obscenities snatched Riza's eyes, but she still heard the laugh from the weasel of a man imprisoning Emile and Roman. The sound was outshone by the laming sting that cracked into the sensitive membrane of her skull. The back of her head rived like a wine glass off the shabby stone of the arched gate. Riza saw black, falling down against the wall, cradling herself against the rock and using only flashes of vision to gather her bearings. The fuzziness faded into spots but Riza ignored her unclear vision. The man detaining Winry had made his way back to the group and spun Winry out of his clench onto the dew-coated dirt, blackening her petite, white summer dress. Winry slouched onto her knees to cause her platinum locks, tipped with mud, to spray slim designs onto the silvery material of her dress. She immediately staggered to her feet then to Riza, who had blood flooding through her hair and down her neck onto her lilac t-shirt. The short-sleeved, V-neck shirt absorbed the blood like hell wolfed lost souls. Riza was somewhat huddled over, her eyes half-lidded as she propped back onto the entry when Winry leapt to her aid. Riza gutturally glowered, "Let go of the kids."

The man locking up the boys despicably laughed, "That's not how things are gonna play out, baby."

Riza propelled from the wall, Winry pegged a hand on Riza's back in reminder of her physical health, "Don't _ever_ call me _baby_, you piece of shit coward."  
The wiry man that had bounced Riza's head into the grain scowled in ire, "Coward? Coward? No, a _coward_ is the Fullmetal Alchemist, hiding behind a pocket watch to destroy whatever he pleased. He took out towns for no reason! He always claimed it was for the greater good and the _sheep_ of Amestris just nodded their heads and named him their hero! And now he got what he deserved; he's dead. So now-"

Winry blasted, earsplitting at the top of her lungs, "Ed bled himself _dry_ for this country and its people yet there are _somehow_ still bastards like _you_! Ed has _never_ been a coward! He consumed all the _sorrows_ of this damn country so they couldn't spread! And he held his ground and _sat_ and _took_ the _martyrdom_ and the _burdens_ and the _rage_ and _violence_ and he never complained! He took accountability for things that he didn't even have a _part_ in! So don't you _dare_ think you're deceiving anyone that has an _ounce_ of brainpower or benevolence; something you three _cowards_ obviously have _neither_ of! Ed was a saint, he didn't have to carry around guns," Winry waved her hand palm-down towards the man who had incensed her, "like you have in your pockets or threaten children to get something done! He always did what he _had_ to do to protect; never what he _wanted_ to do!"

The skinny man that had prodded Winry and the third man gaped that the woman would admonish them even though they had the upper hand. However, the uncivilized ghoul chaining Emile and Roman smirked, "Well, well, well, the Fullmetal Alchemist's whore has an awfully smart mouth, doesn't she?"

_The Fullmetal Alchemist's whore_. _The Fullmetal Alchemist's whore. The Fullmetal Alchemist's whore. The Fullmetal Alchemist's whore._

Riza was thunderstruck with the static of familiarity, "_You_."

Winry stepped forward to be even with Riza's shoulder, her hand gliding to the middle of Riza's upper back, "What do you mean?"

Riza trained her eyes on the human swine in front of her as she sightlessly clasped her fingers around Winry's palm, "He was at the hospital. He was the bastard Roy beat down at the hospital during Emile's birth."

The beady-eyed man tightened his twisting grip on Emile and Roman's stretched shirts when the third man shook his head, greased-back chocolate hair shining in the nascent sunlight, with a patronizing laugh, "Yeah, Simon, I'll never get sick'a rememberin' that not only did ya get beat up by Roy fuckin' Mustang, but ya got beat up by'a _drunk_ Roy fuckin' Mustang!"

"Can it, Nils! I didn't see 'em coming!" Simon blew and budged the hold on Emile and Roman's tops into one hand.

"How do you know who I am?" Winry haughtily pointed at Simon.

Simon resumed his resentful frown, "Don't play dumb. Everyone knows who you are Winry Rockbell. Especially after that little display we all heard about it the alley."

"What the hell are you talking about, freak?" Winry seethed with narrow eyes.

"My mother had the lovely courtesy to have a brick thrust into her skull when your precious alchemist decided to go on one of his careless, inconsiderate power trips through Central. Everybody knows about Mister Elric's sweet tooth for his automail mechanic; your guys' little encounter wasn't a secret."

"What _the fuck_ are you talking about?" Winry threw her hand that had lain on Riza's back over her head in a hyperbolic parade of frustration and indignation.

"When the Fullmetal Alchemist dove in front of you when the Ishvalan went to kill you, when he said he wouldn't let one hair on your head be touched, and," Simon adopted a mocking high-pitched voice to emphasize his disgust, "_he held you in his loving arms_ for nearly half an hour before you could let go."

Winry puffed out her chest, "How does that prove anything, you stupid fuck? We've known each other since we were babies so he's going to be protective of me, and you said it yourself: I was very nearly murdered. You'd have to be calmed down too!"

"Ah, but did Mister Alphonse Elric dive in front of his childhood friend? Hm? Was he the one that stayed and, according to witnesses, hugged you and stroked your hair until the MP came? No, it was the Fullmetal Alchemist," Simon was charging up again.

"So you're pissed off enough to kidnap my son because Ed hugged me in an alleyway? Get a life! And what happened with your mom, look, Ed didn't take aim and say 'aw, yes, her' and pitch a brick at her! He was trying to capture a deranged killer! Cut him some slack! Second thing, don't bring Al into this, you've insulted the Elric name enough! And this beef with Ed has nothing to do with me or Emile, and it _particularly_ has nothing to do with Roman or Riza, so let the boys go and we can all be on our merry way."

"They ain't gettin' it, are they, Max?" Nils cut Simon off before he could respond.

Max, the third man stood with crossed tanned arms while biting his chapped lips in delight, "Nope. Look, Blondie, the Fullmetal Alchemist caused all three of us trouble, brought our families or friends harm without apology and we won't take that sitting down. Then Roy Mustang and the Hawk's Eye here aren't innocent themselves. At least the Fullmetal Alchemist didn't kill hundreds upon thousands of innocent people, like the Flame Alchemist and the Hawk's Eye; but he did plenty enough. And-"

"Ed hasn't been in Amestris for years, asshole!" Winry stepped towards the men but Riza, who still had a fixed clamp on her hand, pulled her in reverse. Winry's figure hunched as she tried to make her hand movable while bellowing at the men, "And if you'd look past your own limited bullshit eyes, you'd realize that Ed, Al, General Mustang, and Riza saved your ass!"

Max misguidedly pointed out, "Yeah, right! The Fullmetal Alchemist was too busy knocking you up and the Flame Alchemist was too busy fucking Riza Hawkeye there!"

Riza's boiling point had already been bubbling, but Max's statement merely caused rage in her veins, "General Mustang and I have _never_ had such a relationship and Winry and Ed were barely sixteen when that happened! In other words, you're an ill-informed idiot!"

"Enough!" Nils declared. "This's gone long enough!" He pulled the lustrous semi-automatic pistol out of his army green windbreaker and waved it like a country-claiming flag in Riza and Winry's direction. "The Flame Alchemist and the Fullmetal Alchemist hurt our friends'n family and now it's payback time. Havin' Riza Hawkeye part of the equation is just'n added bonus."

_Hurt? Friends, family, hurt. Now it's payback time. Friends, family, hurt. Payback._ Riza diagnosed the words like a mad scientist diagnosed the amount of pain that could be endured before it killed a man. "Let Emile and Roman go, ok? Just let them go, and let Winry go with them."

Winry held Riza's hand snugger and turned in pursuit of the older woman's eyes to object, "No! I'm not leaving you here!"

"Winry, you aren't getting what they're going to do. You need to get the boys and leave," Riza cupped the side of Winry's neck with her free hand and felt Winry crush her other. "It's our only opportunity."

"No, that's _not_ an option," Winry's azure eyes swelled with unshed tears. "I refuse."

Max snorted like a pig, "Like you would have a choice anyway, girlie. You're mine."

"Keep dreaming, dipshit!" Winry opined with a raucous bark when turning her head to face the man.

Max drew his gun from the back pocket of his khaki shorts and growled, "Oh? I think you'll be dreaming. You'll be dreaming really sound after you get your head split because of that sharp tongue."

Winry squinted her eyes to harbor her accrual tears and bit back violently, "What can I say? My tongue is boneless but it breaks bone."

"I'll be sure to return the favor," Max ground his teeth in abhor that when faced with threat she mocked and goaded.

Before Winry could lash her head around to see why Riza's fingers had been disunited from hers, Nils had ahold of Riza's straw-colored hair, loops snarling around his fingers, and lobbed the barrel of the pistol against Riza's right cheek, "Ya wanna fight like y'r friend, Lieutenant Colonel?"

"Sure," Riza susurrated when he pulled her hair tighter and caused the gun to thud into her molars through the hassock of her cheek's muscles. "But are we going to trade fists before or after you pump your diaphragm?" Winry fought for breath when Nils' hand tangled out of Riza's hair and pounded into the joint of her mouth. His hand popped up from the punch with a few mites of skin removed from the knuckles because of Riza's teeth. Riza didn't show any signs that she just got a busted lip. Then he grabbed her jawline and reassumed the barrel into her cheek with brawny duress. Riza raked up at his gnashed teeth and enlarged nostrils as though observing a mirror, "I'm going to cut off your hands and string them around your neck by the time this is over."

Riza's avowal got a demoniac retaliation. Before Riza had the chance to take another breath, she was struck into the scaly macadam of the arch. Her mid-torso hit the stone first and she felt a tear in the lilac cotton of her shirt as well as a caustic slash in her flesh. Nils forthwith had the barrel under her mandible, mashing into the confluence of skin between her chin and neck. The grip chafed against her throat until Nils turned the gun so the frame was upright and the bends of his fingers crushed into her throat. "You'll be too busy begging for mercy," Nils punched the butt of the pistol into Riza's upper right cheekbone and she once again saw a vast momentary black.

A cry from Winry met her ears before her pupils could contract, "Get the fuck off of me!"

Nils pugnaciously yanked Riza up by her arm and flung her against the gate, replacing the gun into her cheek. Winry was no longer in sight but Riza could clearly hear her. However, Riza couldn't focus on the noise too long before her assault continued. The vicious brute commenced further brutalization towards the older blonde, who hurriedly called out, "Emile! Roman! Close your eyes! Close your eyes now!"

Emile attempted a step closer to Riza, only resulting in a further stretching of his shirt, to walk to her so he could deny and question her. However, he was stilled when Winry's high-pitched voice tone shocked Emile and Riza's ears, "_Emile, you better put your hand over Roman's eyes and you better close yours, dammit_!"

Emile backed up and speedily sheltered Roman's eyes, to which Roman insignificantly objected until Riza broadly scolded him. Then tears slid from Roman's eyes at Winry's shrieks of panic, oblivious of the crimson fluid flooding from his mother's body. Winry's succeeding wail nearly provoked him to open the eyes that mimicked Ed's signature gene but resisted in fear of reprimand. Emile felt his shirt snatched as he banged into Roman when Simon switched their hold into his other hand so he could whip the pistol out of his front right jeans' pocket. But Emile did not break his mother's commandment and kept his small hand around Roman's eyes even though the younger boy was trying to pull it off to find the origin of the scream.

Nils never removed the pistol from Riza's cheek and she tried to think of a way to worm their way out of the situation once the assault was over. While looking between Simon and the side of Nils' head, struggling to find a loophole, Riza detected the dull shine of Winry's short fingernails as her fingers dreadfully dug into the chiseled corner of the stone gate. Close enough to touch Winry's fingertips, Riza inched her arm up the uneven stones and wrapped her fingers around the ring finger and middle finger of Winry's right hand. Riza passionately felt the fingernails rose into her palm and the base of her fingers while she extended an iota of solace by a hole created with her thumb and index finger, allowing Winry's unrestricted thumb, index, and pinky to rest on opposite ends of her hands.

Riza's minor pain, excluding the numbing pangs in her head, subsided near the time Winry's bawling of agony worsened. Riza virtually lost grip of Winry's fingertips when Winry jolted her hand. The aggrieved cries and Winry's effort to fist her hand set Riza's tongue ablaze, "You are such faggots." Nils came to a standstill in his assault only long enough to snarl and drive his upturned knuckles into her head. The hit gutted flesh from Riza's left cheek and tears of blood trickled onto her cotton shirt as though the tears of salty water would drip onto a son's black blazer during his mother's burial. The time of a blood-spattered death was pending. Then the sons would soon mourn. Riza seethed through the arresting pain and the resumed taunting, "If your plan today was to play cat and mouse, you best kill us instead. If we leave this park alive and expose who you are and what you've done, the first person on your ass will be Roy Mustang. And I'll shoot your guts out while you're burning on the ground."

Nils barked again, "You're not in the position to be making threats, darlin'." Nils ceased his assault only long enough to spin Riza around, crushing her face against the stone, and mashed the barrel into the gash on the back of Riza's skull. "And now ya ain't in the position t'talk to me at all."

Once Nils recommenced his prior actions, Riza's eyes hooked onto the floundering, dainty fingertips of her friend she had been forced to turn loose. _I certainly won't need to talk when I'm blowing your head off your shoulders. You just gave me an idea, asshole._ Not long after her epiphany washed her brain, Nils concluded his assault and backed away with a victorious laugh while the barrel of the pistol dropped from her head to her mid-back without actually making direct contact with her being. _Mistake one._ Nils re-garbed before shifting his body a tad to the side and turn his head to look back at Simon immuring the children. _Mistake two_. Riza upraised her hand adjacent to her chest against the stone to turn enough to have a look-see at the men's actions. Riza overheard a chat between Nils and Simon regarding an exchange of stations but Nils made another error when his body's different angle caused his gun to move over about thirty degrees. _Are you purposefully making this easy_?_ If you didn't have our boys, I would've already done this. None of your guns would matter._ Riza self-righteously smirked as she inconspicuously slithered her shoeless foot through the crunched leg of her slacks then retrieved her shoe that was about a foot away. _Now you're too vulnerable to do anything to either of them before I take you motherfuckers out. _"You've prodded a piranha, _darlin'_, and here comes the teeth."

Simon shouted a warning of Riza's imminent attack to Nils as she dropped down to drag up her black cut-off shorts without buttoning them. Simon responded by lifting his gun towards Riza and cocking the weapon, but Riza preceded too smoothly and proficiently to be overpowered. In a matter of a small number of seconds, Riza twisted her upper body to seize Nils' right wrist with her left hand and tugged him so that his arm was squished against her ribs. This caused him to lose footing and stumble enough to guard her body so Simon couldn't shoot without shooting through Nils. Without so much as a second thought, Riza's right hand swapped with her left to compress Nils wrist as she firmly kicked backwards off the stone wall for a greater driving force when her left elbow connected with the fiend's nose.

Nils' grip had not anticipated Riza's counterattack and his pistol hit the clouding dirt a couple feet to the right of them as he powerlessly collapsed onto his back. She was exceedingly aware that she was now an undefended target for Simon and, if she dropped the ball, for Max, who was most likely coming up to speed on the circumstances. Riza picked up the click of the trigger before an ear-shattering gunshot as she flied to the side, not only to dodge the bullet Simon ejected, but to get a hold of the gun Nils hurled under pressure. Her hands had the gun before she thudded onto the dirt beside it and she had the hammer cocked by the time she was gratingly skimming on the ground. Her counter shot impaled Simon's skull even though she had a mere half a second to aim. The crimson justice spewed from the bullet hole in Simon's right brow bone.

Riza trundled onto her other side towards Max and Winry with the semi-automatic pistol in hand, "You pull that hammer back, and I paint the gate with your brains. You don't want that. And neither will the bastard that will have to _scrub_ your brains off the gate." Max had already let Winry go, the poor woman blubbing while ironing her bloodstained dress down, re-clothed, and had the gun mid-pose. His elbow was fixed so that his forearm pointed upwards and the hand clasping the pistol was nearly brought downward into a spot that would permit him a shot. "Put the goddamn gun down and say your prayers. I don't have time to fuck around while my best friend needs help and when I have to take care of our traumatized sons."

On that note, Winry wobblingly ascended to her feet, using the wall as a base, "I'll get Emile and Roman." Winry gingerly inched with her back against the wall behind Max, her knit dress being prickled and hung on the toothed grits on the wall. Once she was clear from Max and out from under the arch, Winry crackly pestered before she limped towards their sons, "Please, as quick as you can, Riza."

Max pitched the gun to the side where it landed on the opposite side of the arch, near the corner closest to Riza. He turned against the wall and threw his hands up, "Hey, now. I mean, come on, now. You don't want to do this. I mean, jail's a good punishment, right? Come on, you don't wanna shoot me, have that on your conscience now."

"You can't guilt trip someone who doesn't have any conscience left," Riza sneered and rocked herself onto her right knee to kneel in the same crouching position from her sniper days during the Ishvalan War, except her arms were extended with her hands either touching the ground for steadiness or holding a gun about to be shot. "So I'll reiterate myself. Say your prayers." The attacker continued his frivolous pleas but Riza silenced him, "One. Two. Say goodnight, motherfucker." Riza's head snapped before she took the shot when Winry's bone-chilling scream echoed through the forested park. Max found the diversion he wanted and ambushed like a panther to tackle Riza onto her back. Before he could attain any sense of balance, Riza kneed him in the groin and lobbed him to the side of her. She shoved off her back with her right hand, taking the gun into her left and weaved on her right knee to pin Max down with her left knee in his ribs. She switched the gun into her right hand to free her left hand so it could compress around his throat. She squeezed like she was holding onto a dangling rope over a thousand foot fall to hell, "Maybe I _should_ let Roy roast you to an unbearable, torturous demise. Then again, I'd miss the satisfaction of feeding you lead."

Riza was blindsided when Max slung the base of his palm against her right hand. The gun jetted to the corner of the arch furthest from them, parallel to the position of the other loose gun. Riza and Max started rolling around, scrapping with each other to get one of the guns. On the flip side, Riza's scuffle paled in comparison to Winry's around the corner of the arched gate. Nils had recuperated his motor skills and caught Winry's shoulders from behind when she was medial to Emile, who still had his eyes sealed, and Roman, who still had Emile's hand over his eyes. They had curled into each other, facing away from Winry and Nils as the free-for-all launched.

Though there was a mammoth ache from her lower body, Winry lurched forward and out of his grasp then, although clumsily, turned on the heel of her foot to land a punch on Nils' clavicle. The feeble punch served no more of a purpose other than a distraction, but it was enough to get away to excruciatingly sprint to Emile, Roman, and Simon's cadaver. Winry had her eyes set on Simon's gun. He had not bowed out hold of the firearm when Riza took his life; however, the gun was pinned under the right side of his chest. The energy of a death that traveled at three-hundred and forty miles per second had thrown Simon around then he had fallen face down into the dewy grass. His knees rested bent in the equivalent direction but his feet were poles apart in their landings. Winry was within an arm's length of Simon's gun when her head nailed onto the rock-solid earth and a pressure authoritatively settled on her back. Lying beside a corpse, Emile and Roman cowering on the other side, Winry endured the maximum pain she had ever braved.

Winry shrieked bloody murder when the flesh over her right upper back and shoulder was penetrated over and over without humanity.

Nils vengefully plunged a knife into the maltreated woman as she screamed.

The thin muscles of her elfin back offered no protection from the extensive, blood-dripping blade nor did the handle of the knife offer protection for Nils when it busted up and gouged his hand after he hit a few bones. Winry's wild screams reverberated like a falling building. The wailing knocked the breath out of Riza she remembered Winry was the root of why she had lost the gun she was fighting for in the first place. Winry's ruthless cries gave Riza the freaked adrenaline to override Max enough to slam her fist into his temple. She proceeded to bang her fist into Max's stomach to make him turn under in order to crudely fasten her fingers into his hair and force his head down as her knee slammed up. Since Max was blatantly unconscious, Riza tripped to the gun closest to her and ran like a hare without rationally deciding to execute Max.

Unfortunately, Nils caught wind of Riza's approach when he heard her footfall. His reaction to keep the Hawk's Eye from shelling him, just as she had kept Simon from shooting her, was a human shield. Nils wrenched Winry's body over his, triggering a substantial quantity of blood to totally soak his shirt and bicep. In his haste to manipulate Winry's form, Nils had fallen onto his back, dragging her with him, and his head ended up against Simon's side. He situated the knife over her throat and cupped his free hand over Winry's forehead, compelling her head back against his shoulder. Winry seemed to grapple for air as though she were deflating. Her lips were pulled back in a grimace with a couple whimpers accompanying her look. Nils pushed the knife closer to Winry's throat, drawing droplets of blood from a slim slit, "Put down the gun and give me your keys or I'll split her throat wide open."

Having never crossed paths with the Hawk's Eye in her sphere, Winry looked at Riza only to find a wild woman with blood-streaked hair and a busted up face, showing a snarling side she had never seen. Riza's voice lowered an octave and intermingled with a growl, "Be a man and bite my gun, you bastard."

"That gun ain't even cocked," Nils laughed with bated breath and a smug countenance. Riza looked at the hammer and discerned this to be true. _Fuck_. "You pull the hammer, I'll slit 'er fuckin' throat."

Riza froze, trying to formulate another effective plan. The older mother lowered her gun as she diligently ran many plans through the greaseless gears of her mind. But when she lowered the pistol, Nils puffed and drug the grooves of the knife into Winry's throat. A gurgling horror scraped the core of Riza's soul. Riza's mind blanked as Nils tossed Winry aside like a used ragdoll. One of her arms was squished underneath of her and the other laid behind her while her now red hair lifelessly fell over her shoulders and neck, dying against the damp earth. Riza yowled in agony as Nils was filled with bullets of animosity. Nils' entire body convulsed with the addition of each bullet. Gore slithered from his ice cold veins to mix with Simon and Winry's in the moist dirt. His mouth formed a perfect 'o' shape and his eyes dilated as he looked into the shining sun, watching the hand of death blacken its beauty. Nils wrote that off. Every man blackens the sun for their own selfish, sinful desires at one point or another.

The light faded away and the dark feasted. Riza angrily threw the gun to the ground and ran her bloody hand over her devastated face. She fell to her knees after a breath and pulled Winry's shoulder over so she lied flat on the ground, her face turned to the side, "Reese-Reese, open my eyes?"

Riza's response came from instinct, "No, Emile. Don't open your eyes yet."

Riza stood up and reached for her keys in her pants' pocket and mentally prepared to rapidly pack Winry and conduct the boys to the car. Riza's anticipations were demolished when a gunshot startled crows into flight.

She was shot in the shoulder.

Then she was shot in the same shoulder again.

Then she was shot in the lower back.

Then she was shot in the ankle.

Riza hit the ground as if she'd been fired out of a sawn-off shotgun from the sky. The pointless bloodbath saturated her body when she fell to the dirt, not only drenched in her own blood, but pints of blood from other people. Max pitched the smoking gun over his head and hopped the pile of bodies for the keys that ejected from Riza's hand. Max fled like the coward he was with no smudge of regret on his id.

_Is this what it felt like, Ed? You sacrificed your own mind, body, and soul for Al. Al told me he sacrificed himself for you first and that you were a copycat. But he had to sacrifice himself first because you died. Is this what it felt like to die, Ed? You were stabbed; now I'm stabbed. Am I feeling that same horrific pain that you felt?_

_You were granted an afterlife because you were the embodiment of love: indescribable, blindly passionate, loyal, wild, exciting, burdened, emotional, vulnerable, kind, touching, confused, daring, angry, gentle. I have no such titles. When I die, I'm dead. There's no reprise. When my soul leaves my body, I won't meet you again. You won't be where ever I end up when I get there._

_Did you feel the same emptiness in your soul when we were torn apart? Were you as devastated as me? Did you dream about me and cry when you woke up because I wasn't there like I dreamed and cried for you? Do you still love me like I love you? Would you have wanted to conceive a child with me?_

_I need to know if you felt like I do before you died._

_Did you feel like your other half was missing like I do now, Edward?_

_I won't be here to come home to if you return. And I don't want that. Trisha is gone, your dad is gone, you almost lost Al, and now I'm gone. And if you don't come home, Emile is an orphan._

A gigantic fusion of sting and burning burst over Winry's body when her eyes flipped open as she moaned in pain. The madman was all but to Riza's car when Simon's gun glimmered in the mounting sun. _Emile will have a parent. _Winry used her left elbow and her knees to slither to Simon's gun. Her eyes were misted over when she cocked the mechanism. Winry's hand drew back temporarily, aiming to the sky, when she curled into herself as she coughed, blood crossed with her carbon dioxide, but once she was done, her aim came to life and the gun's hammer came down like the fist of God. With the third release of the chamber, Max's hasty retreat came to a stop. First, his right knee ground into the grassland then his right arm was struck. He ended up on his side and bowled over his right side, touching down on his back, from the vigor of a bullet in his lower cranium and an additional in the base of his neck. Winry dropped the pistol from a tremulous hand. _They won't look on my grave like they did their mother's._

Winry lifted as she slid her shaking left hand down the dirt and grass to stop by her chest. Utilizing her left hand and right knee as a counterbalance of weight, with hardly any tries, Winry was on her knees. She had to use her hand to get stabilized once she tipped forwards marginally. _I have to get up and go or neither one of us will live through this._ Winry fought for inhalation when she heard Emile screaming. Winry saw her son in dismay that one of the men was not lifeless. To her goulash, Emile had opened his eyes, "Mama!" Emile ran to Winry, who tried to tell him to stay back from the theater of operations only to find she couldn't speak. Winry started shaking her head dynamically and threw her hand up as a pointer to stop. Emile decelerated but still kept on towards his mother. Blood discharged from Winry's slit throat and the only gesture Emile took to discontinue was when she wagged her finger at him and inappreciably shook her head. She slid her right foot up and steadfastly placed it on the ground next to her left knee.

Now stooping on one knee, Winry retched blood onto the dirt but arose anyway. Her legs wobbled like earthquakes and her throat emptied blood like a consequential tsunami. She whimpered from the sweltering around the open wound on her neck. Looking down, Winry detected a behemoth amount of blood pouring over her chest but she could not see the wound of which the bleeding originated. She squeezed her eyes shut and let out another bizarre whimper and the salt from her teeming tears stung her eyes as they lagged over her face. She looked over Emile's aghast, blotchy face then regarded Roman still balled up in fright behind the older boy. Roman's knees were tucked up to his chin as he lied on the grass in bootlicking upset. The sight made Winry forge on.

Riza was scrabbling for air while spasms peppered over her entire body. Winry trudged over the sodded dirt where Riza moaned. Winry's eyes were fading in and out of focus, exacerbated by the tears. But the ache was stomached despite her body screaming no. It didn't matter because her soul said yes. Winry doubled over to grab Riza's hand. She totteringly bent her knees to pull Riza's arm over her head and clutch Riza's hand securely to assure she would not drop the wounded warrior. Winry exhaled gravely through her nasal cavity and got an eyeful of red fluid.

Brooks of gory plasma fountained until crimson droplets hit the milky material of her outfit. Winry took a few failed attempts to position Riza into a favorable stance before she encircled Riza's waist with one arm, the opposite securing her wrist, before balancing well enough for a step. Winry saw Emile grip Riza's limp hand while she used the other arm to raise the woman. However, Winry could not see Roman. Recognizing that Roman hadn't removed himself from the battleground, she redirected her objectives in order to rescue him. Winry's legs all but tucked when she waded to Roman. Between limping, faintness, and blood loss, she wasn't sure she could sustain consciousness for the time she would need, but it didn't hinder her any the less.

Grotesquely hobbling to the disturbed boy, Winry's body kissed more hemoglobin goodbye by the time she loomed over the boy then forced her leg to slide downwards and across the dirt, both knees bending, to retrieve Roman. She wriggled her blood-soaked hand into Roman's itty-bitty, tremulous hand and his petite fingers formed into ringlets around Winry's. Her debilitated condition made her chore problematic but she could not fail this mission.

Blood was seeping from her body and coating her pearly dress, her loose hair, and her alabaster skin.

Despite her predicament, Roman was soon in Winry's free arm. Riza's arm slid from Winry's shoulder, shifting her onto her side, resulting in her stomach being pressed against Winry's ribs. When she nearly dropped Riza, Winry's vocal chords vibrated like the strings of a bass being plucked. But nothing came out. Once she stabilized Riza, she pulled Roman into her bloody chest, his head sinking into the junction of her arm and chest, causing Winry mind-numbing pangs to her raw nerves.

Winry's teeth chattered and her muscles convulsed, but she was grateful Emile was able-bodied. _Hip, hip, hooray, only one hundred and fucking fifteen feet to go_. The black electric car with the chauffeur top taunted Winry as she haled mother and son through the park. Every few seconds, Winry's sapphire eyes would close but she kept on without her vision. Emile was wordlessly mewling on the other side of Riza and Roman was putting on the weeps as well. Winry didn't give a damn. She could scarcely move, she was _dying_, and she couldn't acknowledge their tears and concentrate on all her deterrents at the same time.

In picture-perfect healthiness, the walk would have taken Winry in the region of a bit less than thirty seconds, but due to her physical wellbeing and the extra weightiness, she took a good minute to achieve the feat. Winry doubled over and perched Riza on the gravel road, back sloping against the backdoor of the passenger's side of the vehicle, and had to peel Roman from her torso and set him at Riza's inert feet. Winry had marble pounding her chest fervidly and her winded breathing grew more difficult.

Winry came to realize that the keys were in the possession of Max's body. She broke out in a cold sweat as she suspected that she would not be able to make it there and back. So she had to oblige to a game: charades. Winry dreadfully wanted to sit down and doze but she knew there could be none of that or the magnitudes would be unalterable. Weakly spanking her knee, Emile hooked his arms around her upper calf, gazing up at her with Al and Ed's eyes. She began jiggling her hand back and forth while pinching her middle finger and thumb. His gold-leaf eyes narrowed in misunderstanding. Winry vigorously coughed, vomiting blood onto her filthy dress, some drizzling on Emile.

Once she could move again, she pointed at Max's fallen body and repeated her former mimicry, this time adding in the motion of pinching her thumb and index finger together and twisting her wrist, mimicking a key turning in a lock. Catching on, Emile probed, "Keys? Mama want keys?" Winry lightly nodded her head and mimed 'yes'. "Mean man, keys?" Winry nodded once more.

Emile tentatively turned as Winry placed her weight into her hand against the passenger's window, but deducing that his mommy was draining blood quickly, as was his surrogate aunt, he ran with terminal velocity to the shot-down attacker. Yanking the keys from the insipid hand, Emile sprinted as speedily back to his mother. Winry took the key from Emile to guide it into the lock and rotate the tumblers. With every move of her body, blood consecutively pumped from her wounds, making her light head blow up as though with helium. With the wooziness overriding her body, Winry drew back the passenger's door enough to budge Riza through.

She extended her arm to the side of Riza furthest from her to pull the woman over to the point she could lasso her arms under Riza's to haul her into the seat. The initial couple tries did not go as preferred, but Winry revised until, at the very least, her friend's bottom was on the edge of the firm car seat. Riza's head bashed against the console and she collided back into the terrestrial of the conscious. Riza's distorted eyesight fell upon Winry's blood-drenched presence. Unable to formulate thoughts, she did gather Winry was forklifting her into a car.

To Winry's reprieve and Riza's discomfort, Riza lugged her own legs into the car, allowing Winry to close the door after reaching around to unlock the backdoor. Granting it didn't properly latch, only enough that the door wouldn't fly open unless pressure was applied, Winry fumbled with the handle of the backdoor. She began opening the door but had a bout of vertigo and ceased. When the door progressed on its own accord, Winry traced the source of the motion to be Emile. He had both his hands on the edge of the dark door, straining backwards to catapult the door as hard as he could. Winry released the door to let Emile continue. He hopped onto the bottom frame of the car and crawled onto the seat.

"Romi, up!" Emile stressed to the younger son. "Mama and Reese-Reese hurt, we go!"

Roman sniveled, stagnant on the dirt next to the rock-strewn road where Winry had deposited him. Winry limped towards Roman with a dry sob, prepared to pick him up, until Emile shouted, "Romi, up! Now, up!" Emile decided to take the reins of Roman's actions and compliance. More surprising, Roman followed Emile's command when he decreed, "Romi, I say up! No crying, up here, now!"

Roman scuttled onto his hands and knees to stand. Wiping his eyes and nose with his hands, Roman ran to the car and bounced in as Emile did. Emile stretched over Roman and bolted the door so Winry wouldn't have to.

Winry used the car's frame as a crutch to stagger around to the driver's seat. She pressurized her neck with her hand, mindful she'd lost so much blood already, while scrambling to insert the key in the driver's door's lock. She accidentally keyed the paint when she missed the lock a pair of times. She anemically tugged the door open then sat on the seat with her knees directed towards the open door as she weakly supported herself with the back of the seat and the buckskin steering wheel.

Winry witnessed another jet of blood seeped under her hand on her neck and tallied with the lagoon of crimson already deep-seated in her clothing. A throaty whimper gurgled out of her as she tugged her legs, one by one, to rest on the floorboard. A shot of burning crept up her spine and into her shoulder like a blood-thirsty night crawler when she hunched to bring the door closed. Like the passenger's door, Winry could latch the door only so much that it wouldn't hurl open at the hint of movement. Winry thrust the lock into the ignition, but her hands were so impotent that she had to recurrently twist the key to rev the engine to life.

_Four miles. I have to stay awake for four miles. Riza and I have to survive. We have kids, we're all they have, and we have to endure._ Winry shifted gears with a wince and compelled the pedal to the metal. Winry reviled the gravelly lane, but it was a short-lived woe before she burned rubber onto the grit of the main road.

Her destination was a straight shot, down a singular road, and Winry pled there would be no pedestrians wandering about as she accelerated at an, most prospective, unlawful, chancy speed. But, as far as Winry was concerned, the law meant zilch in this situation. Her jumbled brain registered Roman was asking questions due to his terrified state of mind. She also disclosed that Emile told him to be silent. _Emile is to Roman what Ed was to Al_. The buildings winged by as fast as champagne spewing from its bottle. The entire ordeal felt like an aeon, however, in authenticity, from the time her throat was slit to the point she was now, only the better part of fifteen minutes had passed. By the time Winry arrived at her journey's end, a little less than twenty-five minutes has passed.

Winry shifted into park and did what was essential. With the last scrap of her power, Winry let one hand fall from the steering wheel while situating the other one to rest on her shoulder as she used her full weight fixated onto her elbow to hold down the horn. She didn't know how long she held down on it, but when she beheld what she was searching for, her elbow warped to her lap and her head slumped against the steering wheel.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? Do I need to..."

Emile flung open his door, nearly falling face first into the street, and ran to the woman, "Zumi! Zumi! Mama and Reese-Reese! Hurt 'n' red! Bang bangs then red 'n' hurt!"

Izumi's eyes shaped into crystal balls as she gazed at the car. Izumi crooked around, her body facing Emile but her hands gripping the door frame, roaring, "Sig! Come here! Sig!"

Sig hustled to the door with Mason on his tail, "What is it, dear?"

Izumi was already yanking open the driver's door that was closest to her by the time the men were on the street, "Check him for wounds!" Winry was blacked out with her chest laid against the center of the steering wheel, her cheek crooked against the top curve. The first thing Izumi's eyes were drawn to was Winry's dress.

The dress was fashioned white, but now it looked like it had been a red dress beggared by white paint splatters. Her lovely platinum hair, starting at the locks from the shoulders down, was raining blood onto the observable side of the seat. Her neck struck one as though vultures had begun to eat out her flesh as sporadic waves of gore salivated onto her dress with the garnish of the blood seeping from Winry's mouth.

Izumi loudly gasped at Winry then she noticed Riza a moment later. Riza's back was laid on the bottom of the seat with one leg crumpled up like an accordion against the middle of the door and the knee of her other leg drowsed against the curve of the dashboard. Her temple was contorted around the console. A notch on the outermost of her neck had catheterized blood into the ends of her slack hair and the back of her hair was lined with crimson as well. Mason dawdled near the door with Emile locked in his arms, but even from that spot he could see the striking women concealed in putrid sin. Mason led Emile's face into his chest with his fingertips to buffer the boy from staring at his mother more than he already had. Sig had stopped right in between Izumi and Mason. The three butcher shop workers were thrown and nerveless until Izumi came to her senses, "Mason, take Emile inside! Put him in the back room if he's not injured and come back out here!"

Mason promptly obeyed Izumi's directives as Sig came to his wits as his wife had, "Oh damn!"

Izumi opened her mouth to give orders but her words deviated, "Roman!" Upon seeing the boy soaked to the core in blood, curled up in the backseat, Izumi's heart took a bite of itself for the third time. Flouting Sig's questions as he came closer, Izumi yanked open the door and skidded to her knees on the edge of the seat to lean to the other end. Touching Roman's hip, Izumi boomed, "Roman? Roman!"

Roman bawled, "Zumi, scared!"

Izumi would have grinned that Roman was picking up Emile's speech conducts but the situation was too grody and heart-shattering. "Are you hurt?" Izumi compelled Roman onto his back and he bore up at her with flushed eyes. Izumi hate to use her dictatorial tone, but she didn't have time to loiter if he was not injured.

"Nuh uh," Roman's face knotted and more crystal tears darted down his cheekbones and into his hairline, "Muh-ma pow, pow. Scared!"

Izumi wormed her hands under Roman's armpits and hove him into one arm, using the other to glide along the top of the backseat, "Don't be scared. I'm here. Mama's going to be ok." _I pray_. She paced back onto the road with Roman in her arms and gave him to Mason once he had jogged to her, "Here, put him in there with Emile and come right back." Turning to her husband, Izumi coached, "We need to move Winry; we'll drive them to the hospital. It will be a waste to move both of them so let's just get her into the backseat."

Mason came scudding from the shop again and Izumi bustled towards the door, stopping only to push Mason from behind when he didn't move. However, he turned to the housewife, "Mrs. Curtis! You need to talk to Emile! He said he heard a man say Ed is dead!"

Izumi's expression unstiffened for only a moment before snapping, "I've got it! Now go! Mason, sit in the back with Winry and pressure her neck and shoulder as best you can! Get those two to the hospital! I'll come in our car! I need to get the boys and do something!"

Sig already had Winry halfway to the backseat when he thunderously called to his wife, who had vanished through the shop's door, "What are you going to do?"

Izumi was still not visible when Sig received his answer.

"I'm going to call Roy Mustang!"


	11. The Suicides of the Necromancers

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do not own the manga/anime characters, plots, or creation.

**Bless My Body, Bless My Soul**

**By TheKennethAnger**

Chapter 11: The Suicides of the Necromancers

**Dum vivimus, vivamus**** - ****While we live, let us live (Epicurean philosophy)**

_May 18, 1943, Ponte Brolla, Valle Maggia, southern Switzerland_

Steep walls overhung the twenty meter drop into the enticing valley. The sparkling blue water, touched with near neon green bunches of algae in some spots, shimmered for all souls to see it and became a beacon for placidity through the imminent actions. Like dried blood, rusty stains dripped over the rigid, uneven stones of the walls of the valley. The silvery stone reflected the sunlight which flashed over Ed and Al's faces as they gazed into the abyss. For clarification, Al questioned his blonde brother, "You're honestly convinced this is the solution?"

"I am," Ed laid his hand on the wrist of his destroyed automail. The jags from the sloppy, brutal dismemberment of his automail hand were wound in thick strips of cloth to protect Ed's skin and whatever else the automail had the chance of snagging.

"What if it doesn't work?" Al sat down on the glimmering rock beneath his feet while he regarded the other alchemist.

"I'd rather be dead than be in this world," Ed reasoned.

Al sighed, "I gave Luminista directions on the path I designed to get up here. She and Emilien should be a while longer because the route had to wind or they'd never get up the mountain in the car." When Ed gave no response, Al looked up at him, "Will it be enough?"

Ed turned his head to his brother, his eyes listless as they'd been for months, and shrugged, "What? The fall? I think it will suffice."

"No," Al secured his eyes, unable to meet his brother's dead gold orbs, "I meant the exchange. Do you think our offer for equivalent exchange is enough?"

Ed admitted, "I don't know, Al." Ed's brows crunched when he realized his brother was unable to look at him. Sitting down beside Al with a sigh, Ed commented, "You've done that for months, Al."

Al finally opened his eyes. Ed's head was hanging, his eyes trained on the solid earth beneath him, bangs and strands that had escaped from his pulled back hair fanned in the air while he continued to clutch his automail. Ed let down his hair. Al felt a chill eat down his spine, "What have I done for months?"

"Shut your eyes when you look at me," Ed pulled the knee closest to Al against his chest, wrapping his automail arm around the shin while still holding onto its forearm with his flesh hand. "Do I scare you now or something?" Al started to deny the accusation but Ed continued, "I'm not a Nazi, Al."

Rocking onto his knees to make himself more visible to his older brother, Al declared, "Don't put words into my mouth, Ed! I have never even come close to comparing you and a Nazi! Why would I?" Ed kept his eyes glued to the ground in thought of his forced brutality against other inmates but turned his head away from the younger Elric. "Ed…" Al inched a bit closer to Ed, "I just can't stand to see you this dejected; to see how languid and downcast you are. I just can't deal with-"

"How dead I am?" Ed laughed curtly.

"That's not what I was going to say," Al challenged.

"If the Truth accepts my, your, or both of our alchemy and we get through…" The thunder of an engine cut Ed off mid-thought, much to Al's dismay, as Luminista brought the car to the top of the near ninety degree drop-off of the ravine. "Alright, Alphonse, let's go."

Seeing Emilien's overawed, aged face and Luminista's near barren expression Al sucked in a large breath and trailed after his brother. Luminista gradually opened the driver's door and stepped out with an irresolute sigh. Emilien too switched from the passenger's seat into the backseat Luminista was going to sit on. Al clutched his fists in anticipation, nails etching crescent moons into his palms as he walked around the front of the car to the passenger's seat.

Ed felt hollow. He felt perfectly and readily agnostic about the impending events. Al and Ed slid into the front seats of the frozen mud-covered car. Latching the doors with fierce swings, the Elrics looked to each other. The brothers with twin golden eyes did not break the mute conversation they were having through their eyes when Luminista whispered, "You two are sure this is the only option?"

Ed shifted to drive while still looking at Al as to say 'I love you, Brother,' Al nodding to address the notion. He smashed his foot into the gas pedal until it punched the floorboard. The mud and snow-laden tires spun in place then flew to a screeching sprint.

Ed and Al never answered.

_May 18, 1943, St. Airmid Medical Center, Dublith, Amestris_

"Mustang's freaking me the fuck out," Breda confided. "He's been pacing outside the door holding his gloves for a long time."

Rebecca gave a jaded conclusion, "Don't pretend; you're just as freaked as he is. The only difference is that you can't start a fire with a snap of your fingers."

"And that's why he's freaking us out," Fuery inputted.

Jean flopped his head back, his neck falling over the highpoint of the ultramarine seat, "Imagine if Ed and Al were on board. They don't even need for any circles to cause damage. When Ed and Al clap, a million people could kick the bucket." Jean became mindful when he spotted in his outlying vision at Izumi postured in one of the waiting room seats opposite of Breda and Fuery's chosen side. One of her hands cupped her ribs as her elbow reclined against the outturned wrist hard-pressed into her side in a white-knuckled fashion. Her hand covered her mottled face from her nose down. Her eyes had been shut but was now clutched together, crystallized water transuding from the corners at the mention of the blonde brothers. "Um…um…but we should just…you know…" Jean shuffled his eyes to the side towards Izumi without any gesturing of his head.

Rebecca was curled up in the seat beside Jean, glomming his palm to rest on the curve of her stomach, her face rouged as well, "Let's all just be silent, Jean."

Jean's speech detruded, "Whatever you say."

Roy stomped into the waiting room and keeled over on a seat in the diagonal corner from Izumi, who sat cross-legged with inattentive, tumid eyes, and placed his face in his hands after flinging his gloves to the spic and span floor, "Fuck."

The other tenants of the room reckoned to not ask any questions. As if devouring throats, silence chomped the dwelling to bits. Sig sailed into the room with coffee and lattes, Mason filing behind him with Emile and Roman in his arms, sequentially giving the cups of caffeine around by order. Emile commissioned a crusade to escape Mason's embrace, sparking Roman to mimic the example. Mason let them down, Emile first ran then Roman followed the older son. Emile stopped at Izumi's feet to jet his arms up and clenched then unclenched his babyish hands, "Zumi, up."

While Izumi arched to hoist the boy up, Roman had curtailed left to spy on Roy out of meddlesomeness. Roman trotted to a gridlock stop at Roy's feet, the man's head remaining in his vibrating hands, "Rye, ok?"

Roy's head blitzed up like lit napalm. His hands dipped and batted an eyelid in uncertainty. He was uncertain about how to pour the oil on. Although uneasy, Roy ignored his nature when he lifted Riza's son to rest in his lap, "Yeah, I'm ok, Roman."

"Look no. In home," Roman declared as clear as mud.

Roy cocked his neck back to gaze at Roman's blood-red, tearstained face, "In home?" Roman nodded and nudged a finger at Roy's chest, "Me?" Roman simply inspected him and curtly nodded, "I'm in your home?"

Roman screwed his crimpled shirt hesitantly due to his unfamiliarity of Roy, "Snap, snap."

Roy was at sixes and sevens on the language but, luckily out of the blue, an answer rendezvoused with his ear, "He means you're in a picture that's in his house."

Roy merely glanced towards the voice then reverted his stare to Roman, "Am I?"

The question birthed no answer as Roman pulled into himself like a wood louse away from Roy's vision, his head lying on Roy's thigh about an inch from the man's knee. Roman said no more but an explanation came, "He's just trying to make you feel better."

Roy regarded Izumi, "It should be the other way around, shouldn't it?" Foreign to a single aspect of parentage, Roy swallowed as he rested a hand on Roman's head, "Go to sleep, Roman. Just go to sleep for a while."

Near half an hour later, Izumi stage-whispered, "This is no one's transgression except those men's."

Timidly stroking Roman's ebony locks, Roy delved, "First the Elrics, now Hawkeye and Winry. Pinako is about down and out."

"There was no crystal-ball divine on this. Ed and Al were like sons to me and I could not salvage them either. You must focus on Riza and Winry's health," Izumi tilted her torso downward to cross her arms on top of her thighs as she bore into Roy's charcoal eyes. "Look at what they did to survive; they're not going to be on their last legs without a fight."

Moving his gaze to the floor, more specifically his gloves, Roy inquired, "So you have no clue as to what occurred?"

"All I know is they were concealed in blood…" Izumi shook her head, dreadlocks afloat, "Winry was somewhat awake, but her throat was slit. And Riza had been shot. I only saw a couple bullet wounds from where I was, but she lost too much blood for it to be only two shots."

"If I find who did this, I'll tear out their ribs one by one and smoke their open wounds," Roy quietly scathed as his charcoal eyes stayed on a transmutation circle of one of his gloves.

Izumi didn't say anything for a while, allowing Roy to drown in his savagery before she furthered the exchange, "Did you speak with Dr. Damron?"

"No. By your inflection, I'm assuming you have," Roy promptly traced his eyebrow and continued stroking Roman's hair.

"No, I only saw him for a couple seconds before he rushed back. But one of the nurses came out for a few minutes to tell us that Riza had gone into surgery to remove the bullets and Winry's neck and back were being sutured and sterilized. That's all we've got to go on at the moment," Izumi began tapping her finger on the ligneous arm of the navy chair.

"I shouldn't have made Riza stay. It was stingy; I am downright self-seeking. If she had gone back, she wouldn't have been here. Then Winry wouldn't have been in the park; they wouldn't have been in the park," Roy kept his head slanted from Izumi but somberly closed his eyes.

"Allow me to recap, you obstinate ass, this is not your fault. You are not the malefactor in this horrific situation so stop acting like you were asking for this." Izumi gazed at Roman and strayed to another thought, "Besides, Riza wouldn't have stayed if she didn't want to."

Unmindful Jean had moved nearer them, Roy was disconcerted to hear him speak, "She's right, Mustang. Just because Riza stayed doesn't mean this shit is your fucking fault. Don't make this about you. It's about Riza and Winry and what some awful man or men did to them. So don't make it seem like you're the culprit that did this to them, don't make it about you. Forget you're self-directed blame game for once and focus on their recovery."

"But I-"

Roy had no shot once Jean crossly weighed in, "She stayed for _you_, Mustang. Anyone else here in Amestris? She wouldn't have stayed if anyone asked her to. _Except you_. She thought whatever happened with you two before she left was _her_ fault; now you're thinking whatever happened to her is _your_ fault. Her remorse drove her away and if you don't stop this goddamn nonsense, you're going to run away from her and hurt her as much as she did you. And that's something that can't happen. Not today, not right now."

Roy didn't voice another word or even glance in Jean and Izumi's direction. Without sight, Roy adjusted his hands under Roman's arms and pulled him up. He cradled Roman in his arm, the side of Roman's head coming to lie close to the junction between his chest and shoulder. Roman made Roy feel as though he was close to Riza. Not to mention, Roy felt like it was his pledge to take care of the child until Riza was better- if she got better. Wrapping the other arm around Roman, he was injected with a paralyzing fear of an involuntary thought flagging in his mind. _If Riza doesn't wake up, Roman will be mine to take care of. _ _I won't let anyone else have him._ Roy's mouth opened a bit out of astonishment that he had that thought.

The clock beats made everyone feel as though on pins and needles and going psychopathic from the woe smothered by silence. The state of mind only exacerbated when Dr. Damron sooner or later dropped by. One and all held their breaths as the doctor instantaneously explained, "Ms. Hawkeye had been shot four times," faces cloaked in horrification, "five if you count a bullet that nicked the left side of her neck." Izumi and Jean were close enough to see Roy juddering with rage and detestation. "She was shot twice in the left upper shoulder; once in the left side of her lower back, and once in her ankle. We've removed the bullets and she's on pain meds." Thereupon everyone was hanging on each word. Grumman scrutinized Roy and was coming to think Roy was about to blow the city to kingdom come in avengement and that the alchemist would have to be constrained; something that would not be an easy task.

Dr. Damron continued more reservedly than with his former pitilessness upon seeing Grumman, "One bullet shot clean through her chest and it was centimeters away from her heart. The other shot was to her upper back rhomboideus major muscle, but didn't get through but a few inches into it. One lodged into the small of her back and hit her ascending colon, which is a part of the large intestine, which may affect peristalsis. We found diverticulitis, which is something caused by infection and it resulted in a fever and vomiting. As far as we can speculate, that's probably from dirt we found all over her that may have entered the wound. We found that in her ascending colon too. That effect will last for a while through her recovery. The bullet that hit her ankle shattered her Lateral malleolus, or the most protruding bone on the outside of the ankle."

Roy's hitching breath still infected Jean and Izumi's ears while tears welled up around the room, some friends shielding their mouths with their hands. Dr. Damron cleared his throat and hammered away on the wall with nervousness, especially knowing Riza was somehow related to the fürher, "Sadly…there's more. She will most likely have a concussion and possible scaring on her head. It had been smashed into something very jagged and very solid. The back of her head is…quite damaged, at least, more than the front of her head. She…we used dermaglue to close the cuts but she needs an extensive stay here to heal and manage pain."

Izumi paced across the room when she became aware of Pinako poised cross-armed with prattling teeth. Once her hand was on Pinako's shoulder, Izumi inquired emotionally, "What about Winry?"

Dr. Damron made eye contact with the housewife, "She is in a…severe state. She had a substantial amount of more life-threating wounds and a higher abundance than Ms. Hawkeye. Above all, her throat was slit. Deeply. I speculate it was some sort of rough hunting knife that she was cut with…" Roy's heavyweight infuriation and shakes that spread like a virus only worsened when Roman awoke from the noises. Roy recognized Roman came in at the tail end of Dr. Damron's statement. Only Izumi noticed as Roy pulled Roman further into his chest to conceal one ear and used his free hand to lie on the side of Roman's head, effectively deafening the boy from the conversation. He noticed Emile in Sig's arms, in a tight sleep, also deafened to the conversation as Dr. Damron continued, "She lost at least…four pints of blood- that's more than it sounds like. It's by the hand of God she's alive. If you hadn't got her to the hospital when you did…she'd be dead. Whoever did this, they were millimeters from hitting her jugular, in which case there would have been zero chance of survival. But since they missed her jugular, I suspect they were stopped from finishing the job. We sutured the wounds shut and are using compression dressing, and we'll have to maintain that for probably…seventy-two hours. She was stabbed numerous times in the backside."

Izumi cut in with dismayed eyes and minimal voicing, "How many times?"

The reply was tiny and accompanied by the doctor hugging his clipboard, "Eleven."

The whole let out a cry as Izumi digressed in low tones for revulsion, "How deep?"

Dr. Damron trained his eyes on the wall again, "The knife was at least eight inches long."

The panics, heaves, and lamentation kept building when Izumi speculated, "That went clean through her, didn't it?"

Once Dr. Damron nodded, Sig let out an 'oh, my God' and looked down at Emile's face, proposing a guess that the boy would lose his mother. Pinako reflected, "How did she outlive that?"

"A marvel," was the only answer Dr. Damron could offer. "And only that. The knife was only fully embedded once, which was in the right shoulder. The assailant seems to have been overly incensed. It skimmed her right clavicle but it didn't fracture, meaning the assailant pulled the knife out quickly. However…it splintered her right scapula, or, um, shoulder blade. And that could take months to heal properly." Dr. Damron scratched the back of his head, his gaze falling to the clipboard, "The knife entered at an angle and hit her upper ribs on the right side. Luckily, it missed her aorta and superior vena cava. Her subclavian artery, axillary artery, trapezius muscle, intraspinatis muscle, and detoid muscle…they all tore." Dr. Damron then sighted, "But underneath the muscles, it struck the axillary nerve, the thoracic nerve, and the suprascapular nerve. In fact, all of them were perforated."

Pinako blubbered, "That's too much damage."

Dr. Damron sighed again, "The effects could be numbness, shoulder weakness, difficulty with lifting objects, even small ones, may have an inability to lift her right arm over her head or trouble in external rotation of her arm, maybe have some swelling. As a doctor, I must inform you of the worst scenarios. She could have extreme burning or stabbing pain that may result in difficulty in even, let's say, picking up a telephone. She could lose coordination in her right arm. Then there are the possibilities of respiratory complication, or loss of sensation, maybe even suffering from paralysis of her right arm."

Pinako surmised, "She wouldn't be able to make automail anymore…"

Izumi kneeled on the ground to envelope Pinako after the information. Dr. Damron had by hook or by crook become invested in this case after seeing all the dismals so empathy came through his voice, "But none of her major organs were damaged. Unless she wakes up, we cannot observe the outcome of damage."

"What do you mean _unless_ she wakes up?" Roy implored. "You're saying there's the risk of death."

Dr. Damron peered at Roy dubiously, as if the answer (and it was) logical, "If she makes it through the first ninety-six hours, I can promise she will recover…but may not without symptoms." Perceiving the crystal whirlpool of tears, the doctor had to turn in preparation to walk out the door as soon as he slung the words over his shoulder with a benignant tenor, "One last…medical discovery on _both_ Ms. Hawkeye _and_ Ms. Rockbell is they were both raped. Ms. Rockbell had to have a couple stitches and…I'm sorry."

With the diagnosis given, Dr. Damron jetted into the hallway, averse to bear the brunt of any wrath; the 'don't kill the messenger' type of thing. A dumbfounded silence gnawed at the group's nerves as the grisly illumination sunk in. However, the hush was temporary when Roy arose, taking Roman to Izumi, "I'm going to take a walk. I just need to cool down; I'll be back in a few minutes."

Jean cut in, "Mustang-"

After forking over Roman to Izumi, Roy had a yawning, malignant, and calculable demeanor, "I want to burn the city to the ground, Havoc, just let it be. Just let me cool off and let it be."

Roy's attention was dragged to the boy freshly rocked in Izumi's arms, "Rye, door, close?"

Roy quizzically pored over for a moment, prompting Izumi's translation, "He associates closing a door with leaving. So he's asking you if you're leaving."

Roy blandly spoke to Riza's son, "I'll be back, Roman."

He turned but Roy's resoluteness was smothered when Roman lassoed the black button up shirt that had been residing under his blue army jacket, "No." Roy scanned Izumi's black eyes then Roman's tawny ones. Roy's expression made Roman deduce he was going to repeat his attempt to leave so Roman rolled like a stone in Izumi's arms to clutch onto Roy's shirt with both of his hands, "No."

Roy Mustang felt something he had never felt before and he couldn't decrypt it. But he had never, never felt it before, "Roman-"

"Rye, no," Roman's already reddened face contorted like he was about to weep.

Roy sought to smile but his core was too heavy to muster up any gaiety. With a barbell on his chest, he inhaled acutely through his nose then he elevated his arms to retrieve Roman.

Roy's subordinates, the architects of the long-running, mocking imitation of Roy with a child, suffered absurd stupefaction that he didn't gun out of the room. Of course, the focal source for the joke came from Maes. Maes slipped up and told Havoc and Breda that after the Ishvalan war, Roy said that he couldn't bear being around children knowing how inhuman he could be towards them. Maes said Roy never wanted kids; he was frightened to be in contact with a child.

But Roman recalled the framed picture his mother placed beside her bed of her and Roy. His arm was loosely hooked with hers at the elbow as her hair splayed into a mask leaving only her smiling mouth as her forehead rested on his shoulder. He too was smiling faintly, eyeing the other way with his hands in his pockets. They wore everyday attire that Roman was not used to seeing Roy in. They were turned a bit to the side and they were off center of the shot. Roy was the person Roman wanted most for one purpose: his young mind reasoned Roy to be his father because he was the only male Riza had been close to.

This idea was unknown to the adults as Izumi turned over custody to Roy. Attentive of a sweltering in his cheeks because he was the center of dazed stares, Roy nimbly scampered to a seat in the corner beside the window of the waiting room. He used the bridge of his foot to whip the chair to the window with a view of the city; a sight to lose his mind to. Roman snuggled into Roy's ribs, content with thinking Roy was his dad.

Roy had wearily conked out after near half an hour in the navy blue seat with Roman in his lap and stubby arms swaddled his left forearm. Within another hour, Roy awoke and peered down to find Roman unmoved. Roy looked up when a cup projecting steam was shoved in his face. He looked up at Jean then smoothly tugged Roman's head from the cave of his ribs. Jean whispered, "Switch me and wake up. You and me are gonna go for a while." Roy didn't bother catechizing Jean because of his diminished mental state. Lifting Roman to locate him into the bend of Jean's elbow, Roy clutched the coffee from Jean's hand while Jean wrapped his arm around Riza's son as he claimed, "It's A Shot in the Dark." Roy upstretched an eyebrow as Jean finished, "Hammerhead." Roy nodded in acceptance, quietly expressing gratitude to Jean for getting his much loved cup of coffee. He recollected Riza sent Jean to get him a cup a couple times. Jean carried Roman to Izumi and mumbled unintelligibly from Roy's position.

After swigging a few gulps of the strong coffee, Roy made it to his feet and streamed a hand through his ebony hair. After skulking to the parking lot in front of the small hospital, Roy finally spoke, "What's this about?"

"Let's go back to Central and get some stuff. We'll be in Dublith for a while and we need some shit," Jean pulled a cigarette from its carton. "Besides, I knew you were going to leave after you woke up despite me and Roman saying you couldn't go. I'd rather get you out of the hospital to cool down than for you to leave by yourself."

Roy glared, "What does that mean?"

Jean flicked his lighter, holding the flame to the end of the cigarette as he puffed the nicotine to smoldering life. After flicking the lid to the silver lighter shut Jean boldly claimed, "Let me cool off and just let it be?" Jean took a drag then scoffed as he looked to Roy, "You meant, 'I'm going to get a drink. It'll calm me down so just let it be.' I mean, come on, Mustang, everyone knew that's what you meant."

Roy halted midstride as he inhaled through his nose then exhaled through his mouth as it made an 'o' shape. Roy picked his steps up again to surpass Jean, "Where are we going?"

"I just fucking said Central," Jean flicked ashes from his cigarette as he led the way to the train station.

"I got that, thank you," Roy sarcastically replied. "But I know you're not dragging me all the way back to Central just to get some clothes."

"I don't want you to go off and do something stupid, Mustang," Jean turned the sharp corner of the cracked, orangey-stoned street as he nestled the cigarette between his lips then he slid his hands into his pocket. "You know, like trying to beat up women outside of a nursery or drinking moonshine." When Roy merely looked the other way without trying to defend himself, Jean felt a cyclone of guilt for bringing up such sensitive subjects- particularly bringing them up with Roy. "Sor-"

"Don't apologize."

"No, Roy, that wasn't cool. I know you wouldn't have done that if you weren't dru-"

"But I was and I did. And it scared Riza off. You'll never know how much I regret that," Roy crossed his arms as he flattened out his line of vision to look ahead instead of to the side.

"I think that note gave me a clue," Jean snickered cynically. "Rebecca found it. And we didn't show Riza so don't sweat it."

Roy peculiarly didn't seem startled or fazed, "I know you didn't; I told her everything on my own."

Jean twisted the cigarette in his fingers and drew it out of his mouth, "What did she say?"

"Goddamn you," Roy exhaled through his nose in a restrained laugh. "She hit me and kept saying goddamn you, how could you be so goddamn stupid, goddamn you."

A side of Jean's mouth rose, "I can see it."

"Yeah," Roy's mild grin fell. "But I honestly wasn't aiming to make a comeback." Jean came to a standstill. Roy didn't stop but decelerated as he got a glimpse of the butt of Jean's cigarette bounce on the sidewalk, "I almost had my teeth on the barrel, my finger on the trigger, and the hammer was cocked."

Jean dimly and rattily pried, "So…what stopped you?"

"A promise."

"To Riza?"

"To Hughes."

"Oh," Jean started walking again despite his toes curling into the soles of his shoes at his impeccable ability to bring up the worst emotions for Roy. "But a gun, overdose…those are both ways to kill yourself. How would the gun break a promise but an overdose not? Besides, why did you have to make a promise not to have a gun in your mouth?"

Roy stepped off the curb to cross the street. The towering buildings cast looming shades on the wayfaring men. The elongated building with the gold and chocolate oval sign signified that they were verging upon the train station. After the few moments of silence, Roy finally explained, "I've never told Riza this, hell, I've never told anybody this, so if you ever repeat it I'll fucking kill you. Only me, Hughes, and Gracia have ever known about this; you make the fourth person." Once they turned the corner of the extended building, the street lights lining up to the train station lit the way that led a straight shot to the beaten down platform and ticket booth.

Roy sucked in a breath, naive of why of all people he could have decided to expose this buried secret to, he chose Jean, "After Ishval, I realized I was a monster." Jean began to interrupt but Roy cut him off, "I burned children alive, you can't defend me. Anyway, I couldn't handle the guilt; it destroyed me. I closed myself up and locked myself away from social order. I had battled with it a long time. I didn't have the guts, or cowardice depending on how you look at it, to go through with it. But after so long I put a single bullet in the chamber of a single-action .357 Magnum revolver and had it in my mouth. By divine intervention, Maes had come to check on me. He did that time to time to try and convince me to come back to the jungle of Central. He talked me down then took the gun. Then he started packing my stuff and forced me to come with him and stay at his and Gracia's house until I was reinstated according to protocol and had a dorm. The day I moved into the dorm Hughes put his hand on my shoulder and made me promise that I would never have a gun in my mouth again. And I promised him and I have not broken that." By now, the two had reached the platform and Roy was trekking up the stairs, "I almost had the exact same gun from all those years ago in my mouth again. I stopped because I promised him I wouldn't do it again. Then I considered the fact that Maes would never want me to kill myself. But when I decided I had to, I kept in mind that above not approving of my resolution of suicide, he would resent me even more for choosing a violent way out. So I chose alcohol instead."

Refraining from deliberating the topic in front of the woman behind the ticket booth, Jean held his breath as Roy ordered two tickets for Central. Then Jean used his already stationary breath to subdue a laugh when the black-haired woman behind the counter of the ticket booth winked at Roy, much to the alchemist's dismay. Clutching the tickets, Roy all but ripped the tickets in half to snatch them away from the woman before he turned quickly on his heel to head to the furthest wooden bench.

"Harsh, Mustang," Jean commented as he shook out another cigarette from the carton before sitting down next to the general.

"I'm not in the mood, Havoc," Roy sighed and doubled over with his elbows on his knees and his hands covering his face, much like the stance he assumed in the hospital.

Jean puffed his new cigarette to life, "Why have you never told Riza about the time after Ishval?"

"I didn't think she could handle it. I still don't. Riza rarely runs on emotion but when she does, she's inconsolable; nothing can calm her down."

"That's fucking bullshit," Jean laughed. Roy's hands fell and left his forearms resting across his thighs and the topmost of his knees to turn his head in question. Jean laughed another couple of seconds, "Come on, Mustang. Just like when Lust put her filthy fingernails through us? If I recall she went bonkers with the crying and the shooting and the screaming and then you came in and she was just fine." Roy narrowed his eyes and Jean answered, predicting the question, "Al told me the parts Riza didn't." Roy's back seemed to hunch worse, applying more stress on his arms and legs. The progressively defeated actions made Jean grasp how upset the reference made Roy and he had a stripe of questions to figure out if the theories carved by a butcher knife in his brain were accurate. "Why did it all turn out like this for you and Riza?"

"After the war of extermination, I drank, I wrote suicide notes, and I tried to get the balls to follow through. That happened then and it's just repeated itself. This time it was about Riza. I missed her. I missed us. I loathed what happened so I started drinking to forget about it. But we kept getting shoddier and I know my drinking made it all even more so. Then we had that fight and she left and I just didn't give a damn anymore. Since she's been back we're worse than before. Without Hawkeye, what's the point, ya know?" Roy put his head back in his hands.

"You love Riza, don't you, Mustang?" Jean tossed his head back and blew smoke into the atmosphere above, an action that was actually out of anxiety of Roy's possible backlash.

The train's wheels gently chugging along the tracks sounded like scraping metal against a rock. Roy leaned against the back of the seat and looked from the approaching train unswervingly into Jean's eyes, "What kind of dumbass question is that? Of course I love Riza."

Jean wasn't wholly foreseeing Roy to be so upfront about it and blundered around his statement, "Well…I mean…I know you love her but…I mean do you _love_ her…like are you _in love_ with her?"

Roy maintained eye contact despite the nauseating smell of cigarette smoke soaring up his nasal cavities, "I know what you meant, Havoc." Jean was swiftly speechless that Roy admitted he was in love with Riza. His face must have blindingly reflected his shock because Roy asked, "Is it really that surprising?"

"No!" Jean rapidly shouted over the howling stop of the train. Jean shot up with a smoking cigarette clipped in one hand that resided slightly above his head as he pointed his other hand's index finger at Roy, "I knew it! Everyone kept calling me crazy but I knew it!" Seeing that Roy's heartsick expression was not altering, Jean rocked back and forth on his feet, allotting more time for Roy to pull himself together and to let the current passengers flake off the train. "So forget I just said that and answer this: why aren't you two together?"

"We just aren't," Roy's eyes fell closed and he leaned his head on the top of the back of the bench.

"But _why_?" Roy didn't respond to Jean's prodding. "Ok, fine, don't clarify that one. But you have to answer this one for me. How hurt are you about all of it?"

"What? That we're not together?" Roy sighed.

"No," Jean forged ahead, taking another apprehensive drag, "I want you to tell me how hurt you are that she had a kid with somebody." Roy's eyelids and head darted up and his eyes narrowed. He pushed off the back of the seat to stand toe to toe with Jean. Just when Jean thought he was going to say something or smash him one, Roy took a couple steps back then walked towards the train, pugnaciously clutching the tickets. Jean mused, "I'll take that as extremely hurt."

The train ride was tense. The men inspected the dimming landscape of green grass and ripe trees. The mountains with their grandiose sizes and unpredictable shapes proved to be the guardians of the low grounds, watching over the flats with an omnipotent third eye. The silence was so consuming that when Roy spoke, Jean convulsed in fright but did not interrupt, "I can't keep expecting Riza to base her entire life around me. She's done that for too long and I can't expect that of her anymore. She didn't want to have a kid but at the same time she did and I can't figure that out. She won't clarify any of it. Same with Roman's father. She says she loved him and that she still loves him but at the same time she says she didn't and doesn't. She wants a family but she doesn't want a family. She wants out of the military but she doesn't want out of the military. She wants to go back to Xing but she doesn't want to go back to Xing. She wants to stay here with me but she says I drive her nuts and goes to Dublith. I just can't follow her and I've never had that problem before." Roy finally looked at Jean, "In other words: yes, I'm hurt. More than you can absorb."

Jean frowned, "What has specially hurt you? Like is it Roman being the cherry on top of that fucked up pie or all the ingredients leading up to it…"

"We've been with each other for fourteen years. And I've known her for sixteen years. That's been virtually half our lives that we've known each other. And…I've been in love with Riza for ten years, Jean. I've been in love with her for a decade." Jean's eyes were pizza pies and his eyebrows seemed like they would reach his hairline. "And even after she came home a few months ago and I abandoned drinking, I just know we'll never be the way we were before and I'm petrified that she'll go back to Xing because she can't take being around me. She was in Dublith because, she said, I was infuriating her and making her distressed but I hadn't even _done_ anything. That's something else that pains me. I know what I did last time I hurt her but I don't know what it is this time.

"About a month and a half ago, she came blowing my house down and when I opened the door she just started slapping me and demanding why I used flame alchemy in the war. She wanted to know why I took her father's life's work and made something ungodly out of it. And I didn't really answer; I mean, she knows the answer. So when I didn't answer…she screamed at me about something she asked me to do years ago to help eradicate her father's research. She hadn't mentioned it again for twelve years until that day. And I…I just don't know what I did." Preserving eye contact with Jean, Roy said, "And despite all of that…I don't care what she does…" Undressing all emotion from his voice, Roy progressed, "She belongs with me. Not with somebody in Xing. Riza and I are cut from the same cloth but she didn't…she doesn't want to be sewn back together with me." Jean noticed Roy's fingers hooked into his black sleeves while his crossed arms perceptibly tightened, "Havoc…Roman should have been mine."

Jean's heart and soul sunk into quicksand. He had no idea Roy felt this way. And there was nothing anyone could do to change it, "Roy, why have you never told Riza all of this?"

"There's no point," Roy declared solemnly.

Jean's eyebrows now furrowed, "What? Of course there's a point, Mustang. For one, it's only been a few months and you already love that kid and you're trying damn hard to understand his speech and to be comfortable with him to help Riza take care of him. And you love Riza more than anyone ever could and that's who she deserves to live her life with."

_May 19, 1943, Madame Christmas Bar, Central, Amestris_

"The bar isn't even open; it's nine in the morning. What the hell do you want?"

"Hey, Madame Christmas, we had to come back and-"

"I wasn't talking to you, Smokey," Chris brushed Jean off. Armed with insult missiles, Chris suddenly dropped the idea of striking when she saw Roy's face. "Roy, what's wrong?"

Roy attempted a smile, "Do I look that wrecked up?"

"It's not like your old supermodel glory days." Roy still could not garner a smile. Chris changed her game from trying to lure smiles from the billow-eyed man to getting down to maternal craft, "Come sit down and talk to me."

As Chris lead Roy to the vacant booth in the back of the bar, Jean turned to Vanessa, "Hey, Vanessa, can I use the phone?"

Vanessa blinked a couple times before turning to get the phone for the lofty ex-soldier and held the receiver out to him, "Here. What number?"

The Mustangs slid into the well-founded, leathery cushion of the magenta padding that covered the entire crescent moon shaped seat. Chris set an elbow onto the rounded, chrome table and placed her cheek against her closed fist. Roy knew his aunt well enough to know she was calmly waiting on him to open up; something she only did if she thought something was dire. Roy mimicked her sitting position to a T. Roy promptly licked his lips before commencing, "Riza and Winry are in St. Airmid in Dublith." Chris's face wilted and she saw the truth was worse than she thought, especially because of who the two women in peril were. "They were in the park as far as we know. While I was asleep at the hospital, Pinako gave Jean her spare key to Winry's shop and apartment and we stopped in Rush Valley to get some stuff for her and some of Pinako's stuff was there. We called to see if either of their conditions had improved and Rebecca told us that the MP came to Grumman and said they found the bodies of three men. They were shot. A-"

Roy felt someone flittering behind him and ceased his report to turn around to find Vanessa. He looked at her for a second and she got the picture in short order, "Sorry, I'm going, sorry."

"No, sit down. I'd rather not describe this twice. I just don't like the hovering," Roy sighed. Vanessa didn't open her mouth again as she vaulted to the seat where Chris was and she scooted beside the bar owner. "Anyway the men they located in the park were shot with duplicate bullets by the same guns, one of which Riza was shot with." Omitting Chris and Vanessa's avid, terrified expressions, Roy continued, "Riza was shot four times. Twice in the shoulder, once in the lower back, and once in the ankle. The men were all killed with bullets. Rebecca went to the scene and said the shots on two of the guys seemed consistent with Riza's use of guns. One had a clean shot through the head so I know that one was Riza. Then one had about eight bullets in him, which is also consistent with Riza if she's piqued and she probably was. The other wasn't so clean and so we're assuming Winry shot one that appeared to have been fleeing. What puzzles me though is there were only three guns. And none of them belonged to Riza. Meaning she wasn't carrying hers and that's odd.

"Anyway, there were two elephantine amounts of blood. One was a bit away from the others and Riza and Winry's doctor and the MP shared info and they think it was where Riza was because she had dirt in her wounds and on her clothes and that spot was void of grass but aplenty with dirt. Then the doctor and the MP think the blood near a couple of the bodies was Winry's because there were what seemed to be pints of blood in that spot."

His eyesight lowered a touch, "Winry was stabbed eleven times by a hunting knife and one of the stabs went through her entire torso, near the shoulder. Only the tip made it all the way through. And her throat was slit." Chris and Vanessa couldn't wipe the terror-stricken looks from their faces, "Emile said Riza was unconscious and that Winry woke up and had to pick Roman up because he was too traumatized, not that precise word choice, to move and she dragged Riza to the car and drove to Izumi and Sig's shop and Winry sat on the horn then passed out. She's one tough girl. Emile apparently went running to Izumi and when Izumi went out, she said they were thoroughly soaked in blood. Said Winry was wearing a white dress she'd worn before and that it looked like it was a red dress. Then Riza's head had been banged into something rocklike and her head was bloody and Roman and Emile were bloody but they didn't have even so much as a scratch on them, but their shirts were stretched out. Which makes me think that's why the guys got to the point they did without having their asses handed to them by Riza: they probably had the boys. They used the boys to…to…"

Chris lifted her roseate cheek from her fist and laid her forearm flat on the table, "To what, Roy?"

Once again like his aunt, Roy lifted his face from his fist except he ran his hand through his hair before settling his hand as a veil over his forehead, "I don't know which ones and I don't know how many times, but Riza and Winry were raped. Winry had tearing."

Vanessa now had rainclouds threatening to mist over the planes of her cheeks, "No…oh, no."

Chris interjected with a sotto voice, "Did the boys witness all this?"

"Emile said Riza told him to close his eyes and cover Roman's. He said he hesitated, not in those exact words, and then Winry screamed at him to do it. They didn't see anything until after the men were liquidated, according to Emile." Roy's dropped a couple decibels vocally, "I don't think they saw the rapes."

Having hung up the phone virtually ten or fifteen minutes before, Jean was eavesdropping on Roy from the middle of the bar. Jean couldn't elect how to tell Roy that one of the assumed assailants was the beady-eyed punching bag that he scrapped with outside the nursery. _It will crush him._

Vanessa stuttered, "S-So, um, were the men…were they…u-um…_wearing_ anything?"

Roy laced his eyes together, not wanting to even think about it, "I don't know, that wasn't disclosed. But I doubt it."

A knock signaled from the tinted glass of the front door. Chris queried, "Now who the fuck is that?"

Sunlight rose through the door as it opened and Roy turned to meet with the jade eyes of the visitor. He spoke in a raspy voice from privation of sleep and overkill on coffee, "Gracia, what are you doing here?"

Gracia smiled feebly and intertwined her fingers together to hold in front of her mid torso, "Jean called me a moment ago. I live only seven blocks from here."

Roy cleared his throat, making an effort to rid his voice of its rasp, "We were just discussing something im-"

"Pinako called me this morning," Gracia moved to the booth and sat beside Roy after he scooted inward. "Jean asked if I wanted to come back with you. I think I'll leave Elysia with our neighbor and her little girl and come with you. If that's alright with you that is, Roy. I just want to be there if anything changes."

Roy gave a single nod, "Yeah, of course, Gracia. You know if you need anything I'm here."

"I do," Gracia confirmed.

Chris pushed Vanessa, who squeaked at the mighty action as she caught herself before heading the floor, "Get up, girlie, we've got stuff to do."

"What do you have to do?" Roy had an inclination he knew the answer, "Are you coming with us too?"

"We can't afford to close down the bar so I'm going to have to get my trusty piece of shit employees to run this hellhole," Chris strode past the booth with Vanessa pursing and disputing her boss's comment.

Roy let down his hand from his forehead and added his other hand to line the sides of his head. This posture only continued for an instant before he folded his hands onto the table and observed Gracia, "You know I've been worried about you for a long time now, don't you?"

Roy's eyes decked to the polished chrome of the table, "Yeah, I know, Gracia. I remember you asked me what was wrong when Winry had Emile."

"Yes, I did," Gracia's face was, for once, void of a smile or drops of serenity. "You know I'm very disappointed in you, Roy. Maes would have been too."

Roy turned his head away from her, centering out the tinted window, because he knew she was accurate, "I know."

"We didn't really get to talk after you were in the hospital with alcohol poisoning and I wanted you to know that suicide has never solved anything, it just makes it unbearable for the people you love. Like Maes' death did. But there's an difference between Maes and what would have been your death. His wasn't a suicide and look at the affects his death brought. You dying with eyes wide open? That's a heartsore in its own right, Roy. Think how bad that would have hurt me or Grumman or Jean or Breda or Fuery or Rebecca to know that you, unlike Maes, were someone within our grasp and were an arm's length away. Think how bad that would hurt your country. If Ed and Al were here, think how bad that would have hurt them." Gracia touched Roy's shoulder to bring his focus back to her, "Think about Riza, Roy. You may have heard about some of her actions while you were in the hospital but you didn't see it like I saw it. Maes' death almost broke me down. Elysia was the only thing that kept me trudging along until I had enough strength to pull myself together. Riza didn't almost break down, Roy, she painstakingly and indisputably lost her capability to function. Roman didn't bring her back like Elysia did me. Izumi and I took care of Roman because Riza couldn't. She will live through this, Roy. We both know how resilient that woman is, as is Winry, and I think you'll have a chance to set things right."

"She-"

"Jean already told me you said she started slapping you about flame alchemy," Gracia traced a narrow glare Roy shot Jean until Gracia waved her hand in front of his face to draw his responsiveness again, "he didn't tell me anything but that. He said he wanted to give an illustration of what's happening but he couldn't say anything else."

Onyx eyes met emerald eyes as Roy piped up, "She doesn't act like she wants me around."

"She wants you around, Roy."

"It'd be nice if she showed it," Roy lost Gracia's eye contact.

"I know your feelings towards Riza. You don't have to explain it to me." Gracia gave a small chuckle, "Trust that Maes explained enough for you a million times over."

Roy pretended to complain even though there was a ghost of a smile on his face, "Never could stop telling people's secrets. Damn you, Maes."

Chris wailed, "Roy! Get your ass up, we're leaving! I want to kick those corpses in the face a few times!"

Gracia and Roy weakly smiled and slid out of the booth.

_Purgatory, the Dwelling of The Truth and The Gate_

"Ah, oh, fuck," Ed rolled onto his stomach in the blindly white abyss while clutching his head. He looked to his side to find Al beside him, "Alphonse?"

Al rolled over in the same manner to face Ed, "Brother? I think that accident was a little more violent than we projected."

"Yeah," Ed choked out, "definitely had some pain."

A voice drew their attention to a body in front of them laying long-ways in relativity to their position, "I'm pretty sure the window shattered and protruding stones from the wall knocked me in the face."

"You're not bleeding," Al off-handedly commented.

"None of us are bleeding," Emilien clarified from Ed and Al's right.

Ed push-upped himself off of the ground, rotating his hand around, then skimmed over Al and saw that Emilien's investigation was right. However, the next voice they heard belonged to an entity that irregularly hounded Ed's dreams, "You're dead. Of course you aren't bleeding. You have no heartbeat to pump your blood. We just cleaned you up before your entrance."

Luminista groaned, "Who's the ghost?"

As usual The Truth's wide smile remained, "I am everything and I do not conform to your mortal labels."

Ed jumped in, "It's called The Truth. It's the keeper of equal exchange."

The Truth creepily smiled, directly its head at Ed, "You just can't get enough of me, can you, Edward Elric?"

Ed cut to the chase, "We need a portal."

"To where?" The Truth teased.

Ed sighed, "To our mother world, 1943."

The Truth gave an 'hm', "Where in your world?"

Al interjected, "Anywhere. Stick us anywhere."

"You two and Roy Mustang destroyed the portal."

Ed reasoned with somnolent eyes, "We know. We want you to sway The Gate to bend its infinite power to rip open a new one."

"That's a momentous entreaty, Edward. What is your exchange?"

Ed took a step towards the sitting figure of the beaming The Truth, "My alchemy."

The Truth wagged its white finger, "This I will not accept."

Ed's eyebrows furrowed and his hands fell on his cocked hips, "Why not?"

"The Gate and I have taken enough from you, Edward Elric."

Al demanded, "Take my alchemy then."

"This I will not accept," The Truth seemed to mock. Al and Ed fixed skeptically on The Truth as it explained, "The Gate and I want nothing more from the Elric brothers. Without equal exchange you will enter The Gate. With equal exchange The Gate and I reject any further sacrifices from you." The Truth cynically turned its head to Luminista and Emilien. Lingering in its seated position, The Truth curtly nodded at the Roma, "Luminista and Emilien Holiday." The Truth's smile implausibly seemed like it grew wider, "Your sacrifices The Gate and I will accept."

Ed finally caught on, "You want a mind, body, and soul, don't you?"

"Ding, ding, ding. You always were a genius, Edward." The Truth stood up and began sloping in between the Elrics and the Holidays. Facing Luminista, The Truth slightly tilted its head in an intimidating manner, "Yes, I want a mind, body, and soul."

Al attest, "No, stay away from her! Isn't there _anything_ else The Gate and you can take from Ed or me?"

The Truth growled in a dual demonic voice with a tone Ed and Al had never encountered from it, sending them into a minor state of anxiety, "No! I don't want _anything_ from _you two_!"

"Take mine. Take my mind, body, and soul."

Ed cried out, "No! No, don't listen to him, he doesn't understand the consequences!"

Emilien interjected, "Yes, I do, Ed." Emilien glanced to Luminista then to Al because of their adamant remonstrations that mingled with Ed's, "Hey I've had over twice as many years to live than you guys and the whole point of my agreement to kill myself was to get away from Earth. I didn't and I don't care where I end up. As long as I'm free of the Nazis."

"And you will be," The Truth confirmed. Ed and Al stuck with 'no' before The Truth paced back from Emilien, "This I will accept." The Gate began to creak open and as Ed and Al rushed forward, The Truth imprisoned their feet in the hypnagogic purgatory wasteland. Though Luminista was too stunned to move, The Truth pinned her feet down as well. Speaking to Emilien, The Truth smiled, "The black spirits mean you no harm. They are the seekers for The Gate seeing as how it is immobile."

Emilien nodded but still quaked in anticipation as he began to see the obscure contents of the Gate. The Truth spun to make testimonies of division, ignoring all protests from the blonde brothers. The Truth pointed to Ed, "Edward Elric, you will receive his mind." The Truth then turned its smiling face to Al, "You will receive his body." The Truth turned to Luminista but not before tossing over its shoulder, "Isn't that ironic, Elrics? Ed's intelligence allowed a blood seal to keep Al's soul despite his body being lost. The mind for Edward's intelligence. The body for Alphonse' once misplaced one." The Truth turned its smiling head back to Luminista, "You, young lady, you will receive his soul." Luminista barely shook her head, bidding to say no, but her words were faint. When the three looked back to Emilien, the Roma was sheathed in a packaging of black and being lured into The Gate. The humans were powerless and all they could do is watch as a friend and a family member was swept into the cosmos of nothingness. Once Emilien was inside, The Gate sluggishly doubled inward and met in the middle to seal the chasm within. Before any of the three gave their attention to the radiant The Truth, it commented, "Give The Gate a couple minutes to digest."

"This isn't what I had in mind, you bastard," Ed glowered unobtrusively.

The Truth sat back down, "Tsk, tsk, Edward. Can't you accept I'm trying to _help_ you for once?" Ed had a stony face, "Oh, Edward, you and those big old, gold eyes." The Truth twisted to grin at Luminista, "You will be the first into The Gate, Luminista. You're wholly insured."

Al interrupted with an atypical sneer, "What is that supposed to mean?"

The Truth tilted its head precariously, "You're becoming as feisty as your brother, Alphonse." The Truth spelled it out, "A body and a mind are not equated to a soul. A mind and a body can be transmuted, as with the homunculi, with the precise amount of experience or, in your two's case, intellect because these things have scientific measurements and ingredients. A mind and a body are creatable for alchemists, for mortals. A soul does not have such measurements or ingredients. Alphonse, Edward, you have constantly asked yourselves since you failed human transmutation in attempt to resurrect your mother:" Luminista looked at the brothers, now knowing they lost what they did for their mother, "what materials generate a soul? The answer is no materials that mortals can touch can construct a soul."

Ed nabbed the ends of his shirt securely in worry of the answer he may receive, "A soul equates to a higher bracket of exchange, you say. And a body and a mind are less. Then how do you make up the difference?"

"Observant as always, Edward," The Truth complimented. "For the mind for you and the body for Alphonse, I must attain the difference in the only way I know how: I will take half of two souls."

Ed freaked out in disagreement, "No! Al and I don't play in the soul stealing realm. We wouldn't take a Philosopher's Stone made of human souls and we aren't going to take them for equal exchange!"

The Truth smiled, "I'm not going to take a living soul, or a dead one really. I will extract two from The Gate. And I will not be extracting entire souls. Just half of two different ones. And I have the perfect two in mind." The Gate noisily re-opened its doors and the black seekers flew out and took hold of Luminista, who was strangely exceptionally tranquil, as she had been before the suicides. The Truth beamed at the Elrics, "She shall pass through a new portal to your world."

"Whose souls are you planning to split?" Ed unevenly probed.

"The ones that birthed _your_ souls," The Truth brusquely declared.

Ed became shell shocked and stared into the distant naught, "You're going to take a half of each of our parents' souls?"

Al pleaded with The Truth, "No, no, no! Please don't take half of their souls! Please leave them at peace!"

The Truth stood for emphasis, "Oh, you silly brothers. I already established I don't want anything else from you, including your peace of mind. Their souls will not be immersed into yours. They will join you on the way through The Gate and they will lead you through the new portal. You of all people should know The Gate does not hand out souls. Once you are through the new portal, their souls will be retracted to The Gate since the other half of their souls are there. No harm or pain will come to your parents' souls. They will be back in The Gate immediately. They are merely temporary conduits." The Truth turned to Al, "You will be lead through the portal by your mother's soul, Alphonse, as your tender spirits would agree more with each other." Turning to Ed, The Truth confirmed, "You will be lead through the portal by your father's soul, Edward, as your erratic spirits would agree more with each other." The black seekers began slithering out of The Gate as The Truth declared, "Now, I've had enough of your faces in the last several years and I don't want to see you again until you're here for keeps." The seekers began snaking around the brothers, "Oh, and there's the tenacious possibility that traits from your parents will translate to you once your souls are temporarily bonded." The Elrics were smothered in the jet black seekers and plunging through The Gate. The doors of The Gate were nearly shut when The Truth stood in the middle of the moving doors and waved goodbye with that damn smile glowing like the sun.

_May 22, 1943, Ruins of Xerxes_

The late afternoon sunrays showered the back of Al's head as he came to. His nose twitched as the desert sand lightly dusted over his face with the moderate breeze swirling around him. He felt dirty and was throbbing in each corner of his body. Al's eyes fluttered open to view demolished stone buildings that seem familiar but his mind was too muddled to register that he was even in ruins. Al lay in the dirt feeling bilious and sticky until he finally came to full consciousness. His body was on its side and then he detected an abnormal crimson color bleeding through his frayed shirt. Upon realizing he was bloodstained, Al managed to rock over onto his elbows to shake his head despite the vertigo and gauge his surroundings.

Looking around the stonewall ruins, Al caught a glimpse of his brother on the sand as he was cruising his eyes over the terrain. Al tried to call out but his voice only came out as a gruff whine. Squinting due to the sun, Al adverted his eyes from Ed only to find Luminista. She was motionlessly coated in blood and facing away from him. Her hair was tousled into knots and her bronzed skin seemed to radiate despite the gore. Hearing a warbling gasp, Al twisted his head to find his brother rolling onto his stomach though down for the count. His hair left whips of blood on the sand around his head and reflections of light came from his neck from what Al could only assume to be glass. _This must be Xerxes. That means we're far from Amestris. Damn. Maybe I can get us to Ishval. But how?_

The thought instantaneously dawned on Al. Staggering to his feet, Al clutched the left side of his chest, just beneath the collar bone. His corneas opened wider to integrate the scorching light, allowing him to locate a lengthy piece of collapsed stone. Every step made him woozy and he noticed blood on the tops of his forearms and hands that had been absent in the purgatory. Shaking the thought, he lugged the stone in spheres around the bodies that were, thankfully Al noted, close to each other. After dragging the stone left and right and back and forth, Al pushed the stone over and fell to his knees beside Luminista. He huffed before he clapped his hands and touched them to the impromptu transmutation circle. _Please slide, please slide._ The sand began overlapping itself and pouring over and over into waves around Ed, Al, and Luminista. _Hallelujah the air has hydrogen and oxygen. It should cause a wave to slide us. I just hope my energy can fuel the transmutation as far as Ishval._

Al's face was adorned by a half smile as they began sand surfing. Keeping his hands stable on the transmutation circle as he laid on his stomach, Al felt like he was at last sharp enough with alchemy to rival his older sibling. Al's eyes fell shut and he turned his head when the sand dusted over him. He wished he could pull Luminista's face towards him and away from the sand but he couldn't tempt fate by lifting his hands from the transmutation circle. Al felt drained by the time they slid into a city he had faith they were in Ishval. Noticing the buildings in their last stages of reconstruction, Al knew he was in the once demolished city. That was enough for him. Letting up on the transmutation circle, the velocity of their movement declined for about a minute before they were stagnant in the matted sand. Al heard footfalls as the Ishvalans were sprinting towards the threesome's inanimate, bloody bodies. An unidentified Ishvalan kneeled next to Al and rolled him on his back, "Hey! Are you ok? What happened?"

Al's eyes fluttered as he spoke, "Can you call Colonel Mustang?"

The Ishvalan got a funny, jumbled look on his face, as did the fellow Ishvalans kneeling beside Ed and Luminista. He could feel the heat of another body behind him and Al suspected he or she sported the same look. The Ishvalan in front of him rectified, "You mean General Mustang?"

Al groaned, "Whatever his title is now, can you call Roy Mustang?"

"Who are you?" The Ishvalan then called to the one behind Al, "Hey go get some bandages and washcloths and take them to the lodge."

Al tried to push himself off the ground only to closely eat sand but the Ishvalan and another person behind him (two apparently had been there) caught him and sat him upright. Al dry heaved and placed his bare hand over a wound on his chest, "I'm Alphonse Elric and the blonde is Edward Elric; you may know him as the Fullmetal Al-lchemist."

All the Ishvalans' eyes widened and alternated between Al and Ed. One spoke up, "But the Fullmetal Alchemist and his brother are gone."

"Can you just call Roy Mustang please? Or Winry Rockbell? Or Major Armstrong?" Al implored.

Beginning to believe the self-proclaimed Elric, the Ishvalan agreed, "We'll get Miles or Scar to call one of them."

Al gasped, "Miles and Scar…get them. They know us. Go get them, please."

Al closed his eyes for a few minutes before feeling a humid, flat cloth glide across the side of his cheek. He heard some mumbling before he no longer felt the ground and was hauled somewhere. Feeling something soft underneath him, Al mumbled, "Did you get Ed and Luminista?"

"Yeah, we have them," Al opened his eyes to a pre-teen Ishvalan.

Al drifted with that ratification into cloud cuckoo land.

A little over an hour, Al awoke from what seemed like only seconds of sleep, "Al?" Al evenly opened his eyes to Miles. "Alphonse Elric?"

Al sniffled and his head fell over onto the pillow before he straightened it to meet Miles' gaze again, "Is Ed and Luminista ok?"

Despite not knowing Luminista Miles nodded his head, "They're breathing and Artemis and Lolla stopped their profuse bleeding. Al, what happened to your hair and eyes?"

Al's eyebrows furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"Your hair is light brown. And your eyes are…grayish wenge, maybe. They're a very odd color, but they're not the same as they were," Miles explained.

Al didn't seem stunned to Miles' muddle, "I must have taken on Mother's traits. The Truth told us Ed and I may end up with qualities from our parents."

"The Truth?" Miles pushed.

"We came back through The Gate," Al explained.

Miles pondered aloud, "How?"

Al replied without thinking, "We killed ourselves." Less than a second later Al knew he wouldn't have told Miles anything if he'd been appropriately conscious.

"What?" Miles gasped and hovered closer to Al.

"Did you call someone from Central?"

Miles took the hint Al did not wish to progress in his explanation and figured Al didn't mean to mention the suicides at all, "I called the fürher's office. He wasn't in but I left a message. No one else, meaning Mustang or Armstrong, were in their offices either."

"Who's the fürher now?" Al confoundedly asked with flickering eyes.

"Grumman."

Al droned, "Interesting."

Inattentive of his presence, Al was disoriented when he saw and heard Scar, "Is the woman Ishvalan?"

"No," Al informally chuckled through the electricity in his chest, "she's Roma. She's a gypsy from the world we were in. Of course, there were equivalents. There was another carnation of me and a girl named Noah that was a carnation of Rose. Maybe Angel is an Ishvalan incarnate."

Miles continued his good-natured grilling, "Al, where did you end up after going through the portal? How'd you get here?"

"I think we were in the ruins of Xerxes," Al once more covered the wound on his chest. "I drew a transmutation circle in the sand and transmuted water from air molecules to slide us on waves to push us through the sand. I remember seeing a map that showed Xerxes was Southeast of Ishval. I couldn't really recall directions anywhere else at the time."

Scar pointed out, "I thought you didn't need a transmutation circle."

"I don't. I just knew how weak I was and I was fearful I wouldn't be able to accurately get us together without the barriers of a circle." Cue the moment Al recognized Scar's arms and shirt were bloody, "Why is there blood all over you, Scar?"

Scar aloofly explained, "Violence on the North, West, South, and Southeast erupted yesterday. Aerugo, Drachma, and Creta have aligned and have initiated battle with Amestris. I have been fighting to protect Ishval."

"I thought they all reviled each other," Al recalled.

Miles assured, "They hate Amestris more than they hate each other. They've decided the enemy of their enemy is their friend. Luckily, with Grumman in power, the new generals are prepared and the soldiers are better trained. They've been deported, as have many of the State Alchemists."

Al's voice became grainy all of a sudden, "The State Alchemists? That's not a good sign."

"No, it isn't," Miles conceded.

Al coughed, moving his hand from his chest over his mouth and spluttered, "Don't tell Ed when he wakes up."

"Why?" Scar inquired in a monotone inflection. "You and he are strong enough to make a difference."

Thinking about the Nazis' war, Al circumvented an absolutely direct response, "He went through…a lot of…violence in the other world. It's messed him up a little and he doesn't need to know about a war, especially of a war for conquest. He just…doesn't need to fight and he in all probability wouldn't do it if you told him anyway." _He could never kill before and he especially can't now. He knows how it feels to be on the ill-fated side._

"What exactly happened?" Scar and Miles felt like they were out of the loop.

Al didn't want to explain what happened to Ed. Ed didn't even want Al to know. And Al did something he'd only done once before, that being with Noah, and snarled, "Just mind your own damn business and leave him the fuck alone!" Miles and Scar were taken aback having never heard the younger Elric curse, let alone be threatening. Al spoke poles apart from his previous tone right away, "He just can't handle any more violence." Al's eyes fell away from the Ishvalans to the fair-haired alchemist in the bed only a couple feet away, "One soul is not designed to endure what he has endured."

_May 22, 1943, St. Airmid Medical Center, Dublith, Amestris_

Grumman slammed down the waiting room phone, making everyone jump. A look of complete shock adorned his face, mouth hanging wide open and eyebrows strung up. The only ones left in Dublith were Roy, Izumi, Sig, Gracia, Chris, Vanessa, Jean, Pinako, and Mason, who was the babysitter of Emile and Roman. Chris scoffed, "What's wrong, forget your diuretics?"

Grumman would have joked back but he was not in the temperament and he did not have the ability to do anything but blubber three words, "The Elric brothers."

Pinako soared out of her seat like ammunition from an air cannon, "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Grumman could only nod as the others stood up out of an impulsive rush of exhilaration and hope. Jean hollered, "Are you saying Ed and Al are back?" Grumman again only nodded as Jean's face fell a bit, "Are you sure it's them? That it's not like people just claiming to be them?"

Grumman turned to Jean, "Miles called my office and said it was them. They were found banged up in Ishval."

Pinako, Roy, and Izumi had more inflammation in their chests than everybody else combined. Sons, cherished subordinates, they had returned somehow. Roy straightaway professed, "I'm going to go get them."

Izumi hopped up like a bunny with a sweltering in her chest and throat, as though they were roasting witches over an open flame, "No, I will. You need to stay for Riza and you," Izumi looked to Pinako, "Pinako, need to stay here for Winry. I will return as soon as possible with them."

Though Pinako and Roy frantically wanted to go, they knew Izumi was right and it was better that they stay. Besides, Roy was the only thing keeping Dublith under lock and key from the invasion. He'd so far burned off the enemy, coercing them to retreat. He was still struggling with himself if he should kill the soldiers or continue to merely stay staunch and constrain the enemy. He wanted to do what Riza would want him to and what he would fancy but he knew this was war and it would in due course escalate from pushing to shoving.

Izumi didn't wait for any reply and discounted Sig's callings as she fled from the small group. She knew she'd sooner die from zeal before taking the two train rides to get to Ishval. Izumi chiefly squealed to herself, "Ed and Al are home. They're home, they're home, they're home." Izumi's feet fell on the sidewalks and across streets as though she was barefoot on hot coals. She came at high noon, the busiest time for the train stations, and became a graceless, obnoxious woman, "Get the fuck out of the way, asshole!" Izumi began shoving people out of her path and cut in front of the line to purchase a ticket. The people began to protest before Izumi screamed in a low octave with seemingly wolf-like teeth, "I'll fight every last one of you if you think you wanna challenge me! This is imperative and I'll fuck every last one of you up!" Hearing no more complaint, Izumi demanded a ticket and tossed money at the same black-haired woman that had flirted with Roy.

The train was around shuttling away when Izumi bounded into the train, handing her ticket to the attendant. She made her way to her assigned seat and tried to meditate to calm herself. But it didn't work. Her chest was launching madly and her hands were shaking. She clasped them to eliminate the shaking but, alas, the effort failed. Her feet were shuddering erratically and she was perchance having a panic attack. Without warning, not noticing it was about to happen, crystalline tears danced out of Izumi's eyes. After perhaps half a minute later, she unwillingly began sobbing. The seats spared her from the stares of the other passengers except for the ones beside her, who tried perilously to not look at her. Whimpers clambered from her throat and she cupped her hand over her mouth to try to get ahold of her sobs. The waterworks wouldn't cease until the train was halfway to East City.

With her tearstained, cherry face and uncanny ability to aggressively worm through people, Izumi had a ticket to Ishval as speedily as she had one to East City. The train ride from East City to Ishval was expressively closer which made Izumi all the more restless and made her cry again because of her proximity to her proxy sons that had been missing for too many years, though in reality the years were not that many. The train chugged along the tracks and when Izumi's eyes fell upon Ishval, her heart may have palpitated and her stomach may have taken a bite of itself.

The train swiftly, but still too slowly for Izumi's liking, began screeching to a halt. Izumi stood up before the train fully stopped and was midway down the aisle despite attendants directing her otherwise. The train vibrated the passengers as it stopped. Izumi once again began jostling through the people as they stood in her way. The people and the attendants were roaring at her but she tuned them out with contempt. She didn't know where to start. Grumman, she just realized, didn't give a detailed location and so Izumi took her chances at asking random Ishvalans if they knew where Miles or Scar were. It took one.

Everyone in Ishval knew the Elrics were back. Izumi lurched to an end when she found a latterly cemented brick wall with two separate olive curtains roped apart and one hanging horizontally over the front door, pinned in laser straight loci in relation to the other side. The slickly paved concrete porch that stood barely two inches off the ground held the indicators, though she had only seen them once or twice before, that let her know she had found Al and Ed: Scar and Miles. She trembled in place momentarily but wasted no more time by and by after. "Miles! Scar!" Izumi yelled with a hoarse voice from weeping. Scar and Miles looked away from each other and to Izumi, spotting her reddened face. Izumi heaved, "Where's Al and Ed?"

Miles barely briefed her before she jutted past the doorway, "They're inside."

Izumi found Ed and Al on twin-sized platform beds, breathing evenly. She treaded to the boys as if she were petrified they would be illusions if she touched them. Izumi noted she had never cried so much in one day as the tears flied from her puffed up, black orbs. "Ed, Al," she fell on her knees between the solid birch wood of the platforms of the two beds. The first thing that drew her attention was Al's hair. She picked up a chunk of Al's now brunette hair to inspect it in surprise. She noticed Ed seemed to have remained the same. But they were both visibly and undoubtedly taller. Then she focused on the lacerations and specs of blood red indentions that look like nicks from glass. She then saw a girl on the other side of Ed in seemingly the same smashed up condition. She seemed to be Ishvalan. Turning her attention back to the Elrics, Izumi outstretched her hands and her wrists lined up the sides of their faces as she settled one hand on each of their foreheads. She closed her eyes and more limpid tears surfaced as she felt the boys' warmth, knowing she now could confirm that Ed and Al were home.

"Teacher?"

Izumi's eyes opened and focused on Al, "Alphonse…I told you to quit calling me that."

Al smiled in return to the insignificant one Izumi wore, "Old habits die hard."

"You and Ed lying busted up in beds and bandages; they do die hard, don't they?" Izumi removed her hands from the brothers' foreheads and she turned her aggregate attention to Al at that moment. Al felt Izumi seize his hand in a death grip, "You better start calling me Izumi."

"I'll try," Al offered. Izumi squeezed his hand tighter when she felt his fingers clutch as best as his weak state would allow. Al half joked, "Did you miss us?"

Izumi didn't feel like making a snide or sarcastic remark, "More than anything, Al." Al's eyelids fluttered until they stabilized half open. Izumi brought her other hand up to hold Al's already constricted one, "What happened to your hair and eyes, Al?"

Al did not feel awkward leaking any and all statistics Izumi asked for. She'd been through many similar situations to them and would understand their struggles and rationalization, "We made an equal exchange with The Truth and The Gate to get the two to rip open a new portal. And-"

Izumi almost didn't ask, "How did you make such an exchange?"

Al turned his head marginally away from his former teacher, "We didn't willingly make the exchange. Ed and I presented our alchemy but they wouldn't take it. The Truth said they had taken too much from us and didn't want anything else from the Elric brothers." Al looked back at Izumi, "They wanted a mind, body, and soul." Izumi eyes conveyed the query Al was expecting. Al sighed and his eyes bowed, although still meeting Izumi's, "The girl over there, on the other side of Ed, her name is Luminista. She had an uncle named Emilien that traveled around with us. He offered his mind, body, and soul. The Truth said it didn't want to take our peace of mind but it inadvertently did anyway. You have to believe me; we didn't want to make that exchange."

_Emilien. So similar to Emile._

Izumi kept one hand on Al's but moved the other up to brush through the side of Al's now brunette hair, "Of course I believe you, Al. I know you two and I know neither of you wanted that to happen."

Al squeezed Izumi's hand snugger but the grip was still weak, "It used Emilien's soul for Luminista to be pushed through. Then The Truth told us that the soul would be enough for her but the mind and the body didn't have the same weight. So it…broke half of Mom and Dad's souls off to combine the halves with the mind for Ed and the body for me to get us through. The halves were supposed to have instantaneously returned to The Gate, back to the other half of our parents' souls. The Truth informed us that we were bound to take on characteristics of the souls we were bonded to. They bonded my soul to my mother's because they said we were more compatible and they bonded Ed's soul to my father's for the same reason. So I don't know what, if any, characteristics Ed may have adopted. Luminista most likely now has traits from Emilien too. But I obviously got my mother's hair and eye color because she was a brunette, I mean her hair was a few shades darker, but she had odd, brassy grey eyes like the ones I have now."

"I guess that makes sense," Izumi suctioned in her lips. "How did you get to The Gate and The Truth, Al?

"T-Izumi," Al brought his other hand to wrap his fingers around her wrist. This motion stunned Izumi a bit because she knew Ed and even Al were somewhat reserved in making physical contact with anybody (she was surprised he was holding her hand) and she suspected foulness, "We committed suicide. We got in a car and drove it off a cliff into a ravine. The injuries we sustained in the crash have transferred through The Gate. We look as we would have after the suicide. The only difference is we are alive."

Izumi had scolded with a glower, "What if that didn't work, Al? You two, you _three_, would have been dead. That was childish, Al, and you got lucky."

Izumi felt like a harsh criminal when tears augmented in Al's eyes, "We had no other angle, T-Izumi. You would have had to of been there to catch the drift. That other world…Ed and I determined we'd rather be dead than stuck in that world. It was a horror show. It was a horror, Izumi."

Izumi bounced from her knees to sit on the side of Al's bed, "What do you mean?"

"There was an army and the soldiers were called Nazis and they were brainwashed by a madman who commanded them to slaughter innocent people for no reason; just because he didn't like them despite having done nothing. Including children. Trust me, I saw enough dead children to last a lifetime and then some. And everybody was on the run but if they were caught they were either executed on the spot or they were taken to what was called a concentration camp," Al heaved with a rivulet of tears. "Izumi…Ed was taken to one. He's not right in the head anymore. And I can't do anything about it. I've tried everything. Sometimes he thinks he's still there and he'll get violent and start screaming odd things."

Izumi felt Al's open wounds as though it was coursing through her own veins, "Come here, Al." Without further banter, Izumi twisted her knees to face away from Al enough to scoot backwards until her back hit the wall at the head of the bed and she sat entirely up. Izumi slipped her arm under Al's neck and pulled his head into her stomach. Al did not care that he was a grown man when his arm strew across Izumi's stomach and his face smothered into the bottom on her ribs. Her free hand ended up on the side of Al's head, "Shh, it's ok, Al. Everything's going to be ok. Tell me what happened, Alphonse. Shh stop crying."

"Ed's gone, Izumi," Al rattled, hardly able to say it or to be heard through his mumbling or the stifling of Izumi's clothes. "He's afraid for anyone to touch him; he thinks everybody's trying to harm him or kill him. But he has reason to be paranoid. He was put in that camp and…and…he said he was almost taken to an extermination camp."

Al felt Izumi's body stiffen and that she was no longer breathing. She inquired with bated breath, "Extermination camp?"

"Yes," Al's sniffled then an acute sob sounded. "I'm sure you can imagine what that means. Ed…there's just so much to it, Izumi. And Ed…Ed very nearly starved to death and he lost his automail hand and his shoulder was messed up and he pretty nearly froze to death with hypothermia and he was almost worked to death… Why Ed? Why has The Gate and The Truth let Ed suffer this much? They just take and take from him and after all that he's just now getting something in return. Ed's gone, Izumi. I lost my brother."

Izumi looked down at Al after lightly smacking the crown of his head, "You didn't lose your brother. Now stop saying that. Just because Ed needs a long time to heal doesn't mean you lost your brother. He's still your brother and he always will be, no matter what happens, Al."

Izumi had to ask Al to repeat himself when he whispered into her clothed stomach, "He doesn't need to be in this war, I said. Miles and Scar said there was a war that's started. And Ed doesn't need to be in it. He can't mentally handle that. I don't think he could before but that was moral issues. Now it's an unalike matter entirely."

"How did Ed go but you didn't?"

Al unconfined Izumi and tried to sit up but could do so only after Izumi wrapped her arm around his torso and pulled him up and to the wall. She let him go when he was sedentary next to her with his back against the wall, "The only way for people to get away from the Nazis was to get out of Germany, which was the country we were in. We had been stealing away on trains and we were aiding other people but we got to a station and there was room for only a few more people on one of the trains and Ed, Luminista, Emilien, and I went to get on but then Ed up and said that he was remaining with the rest of the people we were helping. I screamed at him to get on the train but he basically strapped me on and stayed. He told me to go ahead and get to a country where I'd be safe but I couldn't go without him. He was gone for a few months and I was so exultant to see him when he came through the route we made but then…I got a better grasp on his condition and all I could do was try and care for him. He was skin and bones; he was so malnourished. His hair was gone, it had been shaved off. His automail was destroyed and his flesh shoulder had horrible scarring. And they had tattooed a number on his arm."

Izumi just then realized Al had taken her hand as though a lost child had just found his mother, "Why was his head shaved? Why was he tattooed?"

Al's eyes bolted down, "When the people were taken to the concentration camps, their heads were shaved to take away their individuality and pride. Then they were tattooed with numbers to declare them as 'inmates.'"

Izumi looked over at Ed, "Where?"

"It was on his forearm," Al's head involuntarily fell on Izumi's shoulder.

"Was?"

"He cut it off," Al whispered.

Ed's face tossed towards her and his eyebrows were knit even in his sleep, "Oh, Ed."

Al lingered in the same position as Izumi's face turned and her cheek fell on her youngest surrogate son's head as he questioned, "Where's Winry and Granny? We need to see them. Ed especially needs to see Winry, though I'm not sure she can even-"

"Sit up and look at me, Al," Izumi instructed. Al's ears perked up as he unsteadily held his head off Izumi's shoulder as she locked eyes with him, "Al, something terrible has happened to Winry."

Al's breath audibly sped up and he grip Izumi's hand tighter and the covers on his other hand, "W-what? What happened? I-Is s-she d-"

"She's not dead," Izumi assured, "but she's injured gravely. She's in St. Airmid's in Dublith. So is Riza Hawkeye."

Al peered past the housewife to Ed, "He was right."

"Who was right?" Izumi pulled her leg furthest from Al up and wrapped her free arm around her knee to pull back to get a full assessment of Al's face. Al's newly colored eyes stayed on Ed's insipid, lacerated face, "He kept having premonitions that something terrible was going to happen to Winry. I told him she was fine but it's like…how did…"

Izumi's eyes widened sizably, "Oh my God, Al." Al considered at her with deer-in-headlights eyes, "Winry was having horrible premonitions that something terrible was going to happen to Ed. She kept saying that in her dreams he was getting shot and that horrible things were going to happen to him. And she said she dreamt you and he got separated."

"They felt each other somehow. No wonder Ed was pining over her so much. I mean, observably they, overbearingly may I remark, love each other but somehow they felt each other and it made them miss each other more," Al analyzed as his eyes met Izumi's once more.

"You have to be right, Alphonse. Winry was going insane. Even with Emile she had a nervous breakdown and lay in Ed's bed in Resembool for literally two weeks."

Al's eyes fluttered closed and he almost tipped over but Izumi pulled him back towards her and he shook his head to regain full cognizance as he alleviated his upper back and head straight against the wall again. A worried, somewhat scared tone took over his voice, "Who's Emile?"

Izumi smiled at first because she knew what Al was thinking but she lost humor as she spoke, "Before you two left, Ed and Winry…they-"

Al interpolated without hesitation, "Had sex?" Izumi raised an eyebrow, surprised that Ed had told Al about having sex with Winry. "Emile's their child, isn't he?" Izumi didn't move or blink as she just grasped how grown up Al seemed at that moment. But Al got the message. "Does he look like Ed?"

Izumi smiled a tad again, "Exactly actually."

Getting caught in a moment at how similar Emile and Emilien's names were, Al was hit with another thought and released Izumi's hand and veiled his face, "Oh, no, Te-Izumi. This isn't good."

"What? Why isn't this good?" Izumi tilted her head in skepticism that those words just came from Al.

"He can't stand to touch anyone or be touched by anyone. It's going to bad enough because he's dealing with the fact that he can't touch Winry but now he won't be able to touch his child either."

"Why wouldn't he be able to touch them or vice versa, Al? He knows they won't hurt him."

"That doesn't have anything to do with it. Ed recognizes I would never hurt him but he still gets to the point you'd think he's going to cut your tongue out. He can't stand for us to have contact. It's not the person, it's interaction. Basically, if you close your eyes and I put my hand on your shoulder, you know it's human touch and that simple fact freaks you out and triggers flashbacks. That's how it is for Ed."

"Looks like they both need healing."

Al placed his hand over his chest and coughed a few times until he dreadfully digressed, "You never did tell me what happened to Winry."

Izumi's fingers compactly curled into her palm, her fingernails nearly splitting the skin, as she was once again unable to look into Al's eyes, "She was stabbed, Al. She was stabbed and her throat was slit and she was raped, Alphonse."

Al had already been emotive from meeting Izumi again and telling her about Ed's ordeal and Emilien's sacrifice. This knocked the wind out of him, "What?" He heaved a couple times, "What?" Al began hyperventilating, "What?"

Izumi's eyes were close to sealing as her face scrunched up in grievance at Al's reaction, "Riza was raped too. She was shot four times and her head was basically split open."

Al continued to hyperventilate but ire spread over the surface and combined with his inability to breathe, utterly worsening his temper, "Where are they?'

"Emile and Winry are-"

Al shook his head and held a fuming tone, "No, I mean where are the guys that did it?"

"Dead."

"They're lucky they're dead. They wouldn't have wanted for me and Ed to get ahold of them. Ed would have carved their organs out."

Izumi had never felt such spiteful antagonism arising from Al. It seemed that Ed and Al both were not recognizable anymore, "I know. They wouldn't have wanted Roy Mustang to get ahold of them either." Al nodded in soundless concurrence, knowing the consecrated relationship between Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye. "I'll go ahead and get this out of the way while we're talking about things you've missed," Izumi could see the weary look in Al's once again fluttering eyes. "Riza had a son, too. His name is Roman."

Al smiled slightly, "General Mustang's?"

Izumi shook her head as she pushed some dreadlocks behind her ear, "No." Al got an addled face and his lips stiffened. "She ran off to Xing- that's a long story- and met a man and got pregnant. She came back because Roy had alcohol poisoning and almost died."

Al emptily laughed, "What exactly has been going on since we left?"

Izumi offered a small smile, "I can barely keep up with it."

"Al?"

Izumi's head shot the other way and Al shoved off the wall to look past Izumi, "Ed? I'm right here. I'm beside you."

"Are you ok? Where's-"

"I'm fine and only Luminista came through with us," Al answered Ed's implicit question.

"Where are we?"

"Ishval. We landed in Xerxes but I transmuted a water slide in the sand to get us here."

"How long?"

Knowing what Ed meant, Al divulged, "I think we've been here for about six hours."

Izumi unhooked her arm from around her knee and swung her legs over the bed to set on the floor, "Edward…"

"Izumi?" Ed's eyes finally shuffled open and found the pastel face framed by sable dreadlocks. "Miss us?"

Al gave a half smile as Izumi stood up and shook her head, "You and Al, I swear. For the second time today, yes, I missed you both." Izumi went to touch Ed's arm but he jerked it back and scuttled away from her as best he could in his circumstance. Izumi recalled that she couldn't touch him so she clasped her hands around her knee, "Everybody's missed you two."

Ed cited the question Al and Izumi dreaded he would ask, "Where's Winry, Izumi?"

"She's in Dublith, Ed. I'll get you to her when you're better off," Izumi smiled, abstaining from stroking his hair.

Ed followed his gut reaction as he pushed himself up, "Where's Winry, Izumi? Why isn't she here?"

Izumi couldn't believe that Ed immediately knew something was wrong. It was like he was in tune with Winry's mind and body and Izumi become conscious that he had enough evidence to suspect something even if he wasn't in tune with her. He always was too vigilant for his own damn good. She also was amazed that Ed, in contrast to Al, could instantly push himself up, though his head lolled a bit, "Ed, we'll talk about it later."

Ed demanded, "No, we'll talk about it now. You said she was in Dublith and you live in Dublith. Why isn't she here; why didn't she come with you? Where the motherfucking hell is Winry?"

Before Izumi had the chance to respond, the three felt the floorboards spasm and heard an atomic eruption.

Miles rushed into the room, "Thank God you're awake, Ed! Go! Izumi, can you help Al up and go? I'll get the girl!"

Al hazily interposed, "What's happening?"

"The war."

Ed had been on his feet but that final word caused the blood to rush to his head and he doubled onto the ground and blacked out.

_Winry._


	12. Shoving Ourselves Back Together

Note: Spider webs can actually, in reality, stop you from bleeding. Seriously, look it up, motherfuckers!

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do not own the manga/anime characters, plots, or creation.

**Bless My Body, Bless My Soul**

**By TheKennethAnger**

Chapter 12: Shoving Ourselves Back Together

**Love is the essence of life. ****Amor est vitae essentia.**

_12:13 A.M., May 23, 1943, St. Airmid's Medical Center, Dublith, Amestris_

Pinako further explored, "Then they're safe?"

"Yes," Grumman heartened. "Scar stayed in Ishval but Miles took them to Yous Well since the trains west are under attack. We can't afford to have them moving towards Dublith right now. From there they'll go to New Optain then to Central. We need to move back to Central as well. Riza and Winry are doing well enough to be relocated with care."

Dr. Damron uncalculatedly turned into the hallway the crew was occupying. Bearing in mind the past few days' incidences, they all felt like they were about to swig their tongues. Dr. Damron cut to the bone, "Miss Hawkeye is awake." There was a communal gasp before the doctor continued, "I can let one of you in but there's only going to be one because she's in the ICU."

Gracia rapidly took Roy's forearm and steered him from the back of the group were he stood, infra dig, "Him. He's going to go in."

Hearing agreement from the rest of the group, Dr. Damron nodded and led the blundering general through the compound doors that were connected to patently white, hygienic walls. Roy felt his heart pump in his ears and his feet grew numb with each step. Dr. Damron said nothing more as he mildly pressed the worn-out, quadrangular door handle inward. The door silently unfastened and Roy's undeviating line of sight fell on Riza. Her face was hung away from him, illuminating nasty bruises along her hairline, which could be seen as a result of her hair having been chopped off in a couple of spaces for stitches on her head. All he could do was stand mid step with his flat palm jamming the door open. Bats were trapped in the cave of his throat, flapping for emission and he found himself unable to go nearer when the sound of piping wheels from a bed being rushed behind him through the hallways. Looking to the sheer blue curtain on the other side of her, Roy could only think that she'd seen him the exact way months ago. He didn't even notice he progressed towards Riza until he heard the doorjamb blowing air as the door came to a placid close and he was towering over her.

For the first time since Maes died, Roy cried. It wasn't obscene sobbing or even enough tears to turn his face red or cause sniffles. Just a deserted tear that he didn't bother to wipe as it swam down his face. The grey, plastic chair situated against the wall the top of the bed faced soon came to soundlessly rest in the reverse direction for Roy to look straight at her face. There were a few infinitesimal lacerations on her face but nothing that would scar. The bile from his soul arose when she momentarily hissed in pain. He hunched his back to settle his elbows on his knees, his hands clinching together, as he stared at Riza. "Fuck it, Riza. I've been such an asshole. I'm sorry." Roy turned his scrutiny upon her willowy fingers and long, kempt nails. He couldn't see her ever letting her nails grow out but it was all the same when he took her hand in his and sat upright. "I'm never there when you need me. I'm sorry for not being there and I'm sorry that…" Without concluding his sentence, Roy pulled her hand towards him and it rose on its side while Roy kept a steady grasp on her palm. The outer edge of her thumb somewhat crushed against the side of his nose with the tip landing above his brow while the index finger's knuckle lightly jabbed into the rise of his eyebrow. He secured her palm against his cheek and his insides came out, "I need you, Riza. I love you and you can't fucking leave me, ok? So keep getting better."

Roy sat for a good fifteen minutes in the same position, holding Riza's hand against his cheek until he heard a nimble, rasping chuckle, "What are you doing?"

Roy lowered her hand but kept it in his grasp as he faintly smiled, "Holding your hand." Riza deliberately blinked, trying to get a hold on where she was, "How are you feeling?"

Riza deadpanned with a degree of jollity, "Like I've been shot." Roy rolled his eyes as if to say 'what a typical Riza answer,' causing Riza to grin but it hastily dissipated. "How are Winry and the boys?"

"Emile and Roman are fine. They're a bit shaken up but fine. Winry, on the other hand, she is still pretty bad off. She is stable right now but she hasn't woke up so the effects are vague."

Riza puffed, "I was afraid she died. Her throat was slit."

"No, she didn't die," Roy stood up with Riza's hand still intact but he began to slide his fingers off the back of her hand, "I'll go tell everyone that-"

Riza had other plans, however, when she insolently re-latched onto Roy's hand, "Don't leave me." Riza felt a burning in her head and ankle as she clutched his hand involuntarily and she sported a grimace.

Roy took a step back to her after recognizing the pain painted on her face, "Whatever you want."

Sitting down, Roy heard Riza mumble through her lethargic state and fluttering eyes, "I was just upset about Roman's father when I yelled at you. I didn't mean to."

Roy leaned back with creased eyebrows, "What are you talking about?"

"When I screamed at you about my father's research and about you burning my back; I didn't mean to."

Roy felt a slab of steel being hammered into his chest, "Don't think about that right now. We'll talk about it when you're better."

Riza's eyes ultimately remained open, "Ever since I've been back I've been taking things out on you and you don't deserve it."

"I shouldn't have burned your back," Roy shamefacedly confided.

"Yes, you should have. You did what I wanted and you did what needed to be done," Riza leisurely rotated onto her side facing Roy and drug his hand closer to her. "Winry dragged me to the car. I saw Roman in her other arm and I saw Emile walking beside us. I kept drifting in and out of consciousness but I felt like I was outside of my body. Since I knew Roman and Emile and, in my mind, Winry was ok, all I could think about was how I'd never get to tell you I'm sorry and that I know you never wanted to use flame alchemy in the war and you never wanted to burn the research. I also wanted to tell you I'm sorry for what I did to you." Roy's eyes were no longer able to meet hers and his vision fell to her hand tightly gripping his. "I ruined our friendship and I destroyed your liver."

Roy defiantly met her beautiful red eyes, "I ruined any chance of us fixing our friendship and I destroyed your back. We'll call it even."

_10:48 P.M., May 24, 1943, Central, Amestris_

Rebecca ran through the door of Riza's hospital room, "Oh thank God, Riza!" Riza half-heartedly grinned at the neurotic brunette who halted at her bedside. "I'm so glad you and Winry were moved here. It's safer and you're closer to me. Roman said he wanted to stay in here with you tonight, by the way." Rebecca questioned, "How do you feel?"

Riza deadpanned, "Like I've been shot."

Roy rolled his eyes as he addressed Rebecca, "She said the same thing to me."

Rebecca smiled at archetypal Riza, "Ed and Al-"

Riza feebly bumbled, "I know they're back. Went to Yous Well to New Optain and then came to Central, Jean said. They're at Roy's house, right?"

Roy spoke up from the opposite side of the bed than Rebecca's position, "No, they're in Armstrong's mansion because of the heavyweight security. And I hated to do it because I know he gets on Ed's nerves but I left Armstrong there for spare protection."

"Oh," Riza barely shook her head. "Well how are they?"

Izumi, who had left a dead to the world Ed and drowsy Al at the Armstrong mansion, informed, "They're beat up and aren't totally together yet."

Jean spoke up, "I'm so glad they're back. It'll be big league news when Winry wakes up. _And_ I'm glad you're out of observation, sis."

Riza slid her back down so her head could fall against the pearl vinyl-covered, microvent pillow and somewhat responded to Jean's words, "Yeah… Anyway, Rebecca, I would love for Roman to stay in here but he can't sleep on me, he might rip out my IV or-."

Roy sighed, "Just let him stay."

Riza's head snapped to Roy, "I just said-"

"He can sleep on the bedside chair," Roy declared as he motioned to the black, urethane-armed chair with his hand.

Riza scoffed and slothfully pointed at Roy then let her hand fall again, "Then where will you sleep?"

"I'll just hold him, it's not that big of a deal," Roy drowsed with a shrug.

Riza lightened up like a heliographic and was about to say something but Armstrong bust in with a few scrapes and a dusting of grey ash on his face and left shoulder and he was panting for air, "I couldn't hold them off any longer!"

Roy stood up and caused everyone, except Riza, who only cringed, to shelter their ears when he yelled, "What? Go back and get Fullmetal and Al! What were you thinking? Get your ass-"

"No, no, no, General Mustang! You have it all wrong!"

"What?" Roy stomped his foot.

"I wasn't talking about the soldiers! I meant I couldn't hold Edward and Alphonse off any longer!" Armstrong opined with a theatrically embroidered motion of his forearm splayed across his forehead.

The small group of friends let out a shared, "Huh?"

No further elucidation was needed when they heard what was distinctly Ed's voice booming, "Armstrong! You get the hell back here! Where the fuck is Winry?" There was a hiatus before they heard Ed clearly yelling at Al, "Shut the fuck up, Alphonse! Armstrong, you better goddamn tell me where Winry is!"

Izumi took her index finger and middle finger of each hand and held them to either temple, "Oh, Al, you just had to tell him."

Armstrong caught prospect of Ed storming in his direction then speedily pranced into Riza's hospital room and picked up Roy, much to the general's disdain, and held him up like a shield as Ed came rumbling into the room, "Now, Edward, you don't want to do anything rash and hurt General Mustang, do you?"

The pack could virtually hear Ed's molars grit and his eyes held igneous wrath. The numerous cuts around his left eye and his neck made him seem all the more feral as his shoulders lined by his hair tensed. The cursing and storming the building was exemplary Ed behavior but none of them- Fuery, Breda, Rebecca, Jean, Chris, Riza, Roy, Pinako, Izumi, Gracia- had ever seen Ed wear his hair down in public. However, there it hung. Golden strands were tucked behind his ears and they fell a little past his shoulders at a much shorter length than from before he left. Another unanticipated factor was Ed's height. He was over six foot, as his father had once been, and seemed more unapproachable than he ever had even though he was thin and his automail arm was disconnected. After about what felt like an epoch but was really only about thirty seconds of him standing and staring at them, Ed spat venom, "Where the fuck is Winry?"

Pinako stepped forward, "Edward, you stop that right now! Calm down and stop acting like an animal!"

_If you don't want to be called a piggy, stop acting like an animal!_ Pinako, as was everyone, was ready for Ed to call her an old hag and demand where Winry was again but his actions didn't follow their provisions and they were speechless with fright as Ed roared, "I'll fucking _kill_ you! Get _the fuck_ away me!"

Ed looked like a waylaid soul when Pinako timidly stepped towards him, "Ed, calm down, what's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with _me_? There's nothing wrong with _me_! I'm not the one sending them to the chambers or tossing them in cells! _What the fuck is wrong with you_? I bet you drink their blood after you skin them alive, you inhuman-"

Al bounded into the room and took hold of Ed's shoulders as gently as he could, "Ed, you're ok, just breathe. We're not in Germany." Al twirled with Ed so the older sibling was facing only Al and the wall. Everyone took in Al's new appearance in dumb shock. His hair was sunny brown and his eyes were chamoisee and he was almost as tall as Ed and not too far from being as slender. But they could immediately tell it was Al when they listened to him. "You're not in Dachau, you're in Central. We're home; we're in Amestris. There are no Nazis here, Ed." Izumi trembled as she realized how bad off Ed really was. "Nobody wants to hurt you, just inhale. You're ok." They all only just heard Ed whisper 'I'm not an animal.' Al solaced, "I know you're not. Everybody here knows that, just breathe." They overheard Ed mumble again but couldn't decipher it. "Who?" Ed pointed directly as the crow flies behind him. Following Ed's point to Pinako, Al knew he was referring to her because of how often Pinako and Ed used to argue. Al presumed that Pinako was just being as she customarily was with Ed. Al confirmed, "That's Granny, Ed. She didn't mean it that way." Ed mumbled again and Al responded accordingly, "She's not a Nazi, Ed, that's Granny. Inhale."

After a few minutes of Al's pacifying, Ed slowly sat down, with Al's guidance, on the floor with his back to all the alarmed inhabitants of the room. His shoulders were heaving but no one could see his face because of his loose hair. Al stooped on one knee beside his brother, no longer having any physical contact. Al scarcely moved his head to look at the people he used to know with wilting, puppy dog eyes. Ed sat on the floor with one leg straight out and the other was bent with the ankle tunneling under the knee of his straight leg. Once his shoulders stopped heaving, Ed treacherously let out faltering words, "Sorry, Granny. I-I didn't mean to yell a-at you, I'm sorry."

Pinako was so dumbfounded that she didn't move and pardoned, "Don't worry about it, Ed."

A few moments passed in an obdurate, sore silence before Ed cleared his throat and arose. Al followed suit, first looking at the blonde then turning with him to look at the old crew. Ed unobtrusively continued, "Didn't mean to freak everybody out, sorry. Can you just tell me where Winry is?"

They all determined Al seemed to have curled into himself. His arms were crisscrossed and his eyes were focused upwards, as if on the ceiling. It may have been their minds playing tricks on them but they thought Al was shaking. Pinako was too startled to even hug the brothers, however, could not wholly let the situation go, "I will after you tell me what that was all about."

Al interjected, fearful that Ed's irritation and defensiveness would flare up again, "Granny, can we just let it go for now?"

Al's soft voice reached Pinako's ears louder than Ed's screams, "She's about to be transferred from the ICU to a room in about ten minutes or so. They're prepping her to be moved so don't go barging into the ICU."

"Right," Ed ingloriously smiled which within seconds waned to his prior sulk. Feeling the quiet enquiries and confusion, Ed made up a weedy, generic excuse to leave, "I'm gonna go outside for a while; get some fresh air."

"Ed," Al reached into his pants' pocket and pulled out a band for Ed's hair and offered it to him as the blonde was walking by. Ed took it with a fleeting smile on his face and stopped long enough to pull his hair back. "Please don't go too far, Ed."

Ed quietly conceded before turning down the hall, "Sure thing, Al."

Pinako refrained from closing in on Al, concerned he would be the next to jump on the crazy wagon, "Alphonse, what was that?"

Everyone's hearts were sawn in half when Al's eyes steamed, "I don't wanna talk about it right now, Granny."

"Al-"

Al became flustered that she wouldn't drop the matter and stepped around her, "I think I'm going to go with Ed."

"Ok, I get the drift," Granny tapped the unlit pipe in her hand. "But you have to give me something, Al."

"When you called him an animal, it triggered a memory of something that happened in the other world. The more you talk to him, the more likely you are to cause him to have reciprocation like that. And don't touch him. Just…be cautious around him."

Pinako scorned herself for having to ask, "Has he hurt anyone? Will he hurt anyone?"

"He's punched me in the face twice but that's because I frightened him." Al curtly laughed, "Announce yourself if you're approaching him. But, um, as to your succeeding question: I don't know. I don't know if he'll hurt anyone. That's why I said to not talk to him much and _absolutely do not touch him_."

Pinako gave her closing question, "Why do you think his reactions come out violently?"

Al looked away from Pinako, "Because when all the bad stuff was happening, Ed couldn't do anything about it. And when he got out of the situation, he felt like he had some power back and so when he is triggered into memory of that situation, he felt like now that he had some authority, he could fight back against the things happening. And I suspect now that he can use alchemy again he feels more dominant and…" Al clasped both his hands over each of his eyes, skeptical he had to admit a dread, "Before we came back, I thought getting home and getting him to Winry would pacify him and he wouldn't need to rely on power to get through his triggers. But now that we've come home, I recognize I've totally misjudged the outcomes."

Al's hands fell from his eyes and he crossed his arms again as he gingerly met Pinako's eyes, "If anything, bringing him back to where he has alchemy at his disposal has made him worse. He's already had three bouts with triggers in the eleven hours he's been awake. And he's using alchemy wildly, as exampled with the explosion he caused near Major Armstrong. I've barely seen him stop transmuting today even though he's had to use circles because he doesn't have his automail." Al's eyes flowed up to Izumi's, "I'm afraid he's going to go on a power trip. One as consuming as sin. And…and it's hard to say this but Ed is not who he was before we left and I don't know if anyone can get through to him. I'm not even sure about Winry being able to anymore."

Roy softly inserted, "Are you saying you're afraid we may have to contain Ed?"

Al barely nodded, "He would have to be contained if he went on a trip but I don't know if it can be done. We've gotten stronger but he more than me."

"Stronger?" Jean rubbed the back of his neck, "Not that you two weren't strong enough as it was, you guys have only been back for-"

Al observed to the floor again, "In the world we were in, there was a phenomenon known as physics. Its laws didn't allow for alchemy but a science of a new breed existed. Ed and I both studied scientific research for hours on end. We read often and because of our competent retentions, we were able to take information we no longer possessed with the new documented research we found to compare the reactions of alchemy and relate it to the scientific findings of that world. We made extensive equations to attach alchemy and physics together and make a massive amount of energy and power." Al's wrung his hands, "In other words, Ed was stronger than me in alchemy before we left and now…we're both expressively stronger because we know things other people don't, which is why I was able to slide us on the sand back to Ishval by myself. But Ed studied more than me; he knows things I don't. What I'm trying to say is that I have a feeling something is going to trigger Ed in a capital way and when it does, I won't be able to forcibly stop him."

"Well, tell us what triggers him and we'll avoid doing or saying it and try to-"

"You can't, Granny."

"Why?"

"You can't avoid it because I don't know. I don't know what can trigger him. For all I know a raindrop or the dirt could trigger him. I don't have a clue," Al tried to explain.

"Is there anything that triggers you, Al?" Riza quietly inquired.

Al looked at her and made his way towards her, "I don't have any triggers. I didn't go through the state of affairs Ed did. But enough about us. How are you?"

"Enduring," Riza tried to smile but could only think about Ed's Catch-22 and show of anger. "I'm in great shape compared to Winry. You should be more concerned about her and Ed."

"Ed doesn't want to be bothered right now. If I go after him it will only agitate him. Anyway, I'm glad you're doing ok, Miss Hawkeye."

"You can call me Riza, Al."

"I'll try," Al reiterated the words he had said to Izumi about the same topic. "T-Izumi told me about your son. I met him for a second. That's why I didn't come in sooner to hush Ed. Mason came into the hall to see what was going on and he saw me and I chatted for a very, very transitory moment, it mostly being with Roman. How old is he?"

"A year and two months."

Al's eyes squinted and Riza had no idea why, "Oh."

"What?" Riza pushed.

"Nothing," Al regained his composure. _There's no way he's a year and two months._

Pinako cleared her throat to get Al's devotion, "Al, I don't know if you saw him with Mason but he was in the same room with Vanessa. He-"

"If you're talking about Emile, Izumi already told me," Al cut her off.

Izumi jadedly inquired, "You didn't tell Ed about that too, did you, Alphonse?"

A gave a sheepish smile, "No. The only reason I told him about Winry was because he was demanding to go to Dublith and I had to stop him from going to the train station."

Armstrong opined, "Edward is fiercer without his automail! He was petrifying!"

Al somewhat snickered at the statement, "No, I left that to Winry. I don't think I'm the source he should hear it from. I'm not directly involved, if you know what I mean. And I didn't tell him," Al's voice dropped to a murmur and he glanced at Riza, "that she was raped. She'd want to tell him herself; it's just not my place. I only told him what I had to."

Dr. Nascimento, both Riza and Winry's doctor upon request of the fürher, entered the room. She pushed her sleeves up then put her fists on her hips in a habitual manner, "Well, Winry is moved. The orderlies moved a patient before Winry quicker than expected so they went straight to moving her. She's all good for visitation but she's not awake yet. All that blood loss called for a comatose reaction to regain the hemoglobin. Just be sure not to touch her IVs or monitors. Oh, and your resurrected blonde friend scared everyone to death so could you tell him to hold it down next time?" She knew who the Fullmetal Alchemist was.

Dr. Nascimento didn't wait for a replay as she bustled out the door to another patient's room as Jean commented, "Now that she mentions it, every time we're in a hospital, one of us is causing a brouhaha."

Riza looked back to Al's face and perceived the nervousness there and how he was practically shaking in eagerness, "Al, go. You don't need to visit with me right now. It's late and I'll be going to sleep soon anyway."

"Ok," Al leaned over and hugged Riza, causing a smile to break through her lips, "goodnight and I'll be back tomorrow."

Al hopped over to hug Pinako and said hello and goodbye to everyone individually. Then, when he was out of the room, Jean dug his teeth into the topic he knew everyone wanted a bite of, "Ok, what the hell was that?"

"I've never seen Ed like that," Pinako paced. "I've known him from the cradle to today and he's never been _that_ malicious with me."

Roy gave his input, "After Ishval I couldn't use my fire alchemy for nearly a year. The heat, the smell, the colors- they were triggers that took me back to the battlefield. I suspect Ed dealt with the devil."

"So you never reacted that badly, Mustang?" Jean investigated.

"Not because of words, but I have gotten pretty awful kneejerk reactions to triggers from the war. That first year…it was almost too much." Jean cast Roy an all-knowing look.

And Riza didn't fail to catch it.

Al found Ed sitting outside the front door of the hospital on a bench about twenty feet along the wall framing the door. Al passed a few benches and lingered at the beginning of the bench Ed resided on. "You can see her, Ed. She's not awake but we can see her."

"I just told Granny I'd kill her," Ed expressionlessly stared at the parking lot with puffed shadows overcasting bleached, shadowy, and taupe cars.

"You didn't mean it, Ed. I told her you just had a not so pleasant time in the other world; that some things just take you back," Al comforted.

Ed looked to Al and clenched his flesh fist, "You don't get it, Al. I just told _Granny_ I'd kill her." Ed scoffed, "How am I going to do this? Something will trigger me again, Al. And I can't stop myself. What if Winry does something or says something and I snap?"

Al didn't have an answer. He knew this was a major suspect but he still had no answers. Al's shoulders deflated, "I don't know."

Ed put his hand over the empty metal port of his right shoulder, "All I've wanted was to get back to her and now I'm afraid to be around her. I knew in that borough after the train crash that I wouldn't be able to touch her. But I thought being around her would be enough. Now I'm afraid to be around her and it's not right."

"Ed-"

"No, Al," Ed stood up to look his brother in the eye, "I won't risk this. I'm going to Winry's room and I'll decide what to do from there."

Al thought best not to argue with the matter since Ed was right in particular ways, "Ok, I'll get Granny and come to her room, too. I asked where Winry's room was on the way out; she's in two ten."

"Thanks. I don't know what I'd do without you, Brother," Ed glided past Al like a ghost wearing an immovable solemn mask. Without further conversation, Ed and Al re-entered the hospital and in due course went their separate ways on the second floor. The numbers etched into his mind and trickled through his soul. He swallowed the scissors in his throat and his heartbeat sped up, causing his hand to shake and his teeth to chatter. The icy metal of the thick door froze his hand as his palm rested against it. Knowing that Winry, his promised, lie on the other side of that door was so much to bear as his fingertips scaled to the handle and twisted it downwards. He felt the door unbolt and he closed his eyes as he pushed the door wide enough for his entering. His vision was still ignorant to the world as he entered but he snapped to attention when he heard a lax moan.

In front of him lay the platinum blonde. There were multiple contusions around her jawline but her face remained as untarnished as ever. His novel reaction of stock-still fear vanished and he was magnetized to the side of Winry's bed. His eyes fell on her IV taped to the bend of her arm. He sat on the side of the bed, facing towards the head of it and slid his left hand under her elbow.

He recoiled.

_Goddamn it, Ed. She's not even awake. She's all you've been wanting for years._ He found himself staring at the compress around her throat and a burning fury crawled up his spine but a lobbing sorrow crawled from his brain through his throat to his stomach. He caught sight of a white bandage taped on her chest, merely a couple centimeters lower from being precisely adjacent to her right clavicle, but when his fingertips were about to make contact, he recoiled. Fuming that he could not bring himself to touch her, Ed stood up and instinctively hit a wide block of the concrete wall. He turned back, resolute he was going to touch her somehow. Again standing beside her bed, Ed's hand erratically hovered beside her face. He felt like he was going to pull away so he opted to slam his eyes shut. Ed felt a radiating heat under his touch. His hand cupped the side of Winry's face as his scrunched up a little though he preserved his touch- for a few seconds.

Ed recoiled like her face was sulfuric acid.

"Ed?" Al pushed open the door.

Without turning around, Ed bellowed, "Granny, I need you to disconnect my leg."

"What?" Pinako felt blind-sided. "No. I won't disconnect your leg," Pinako crossed her arms.

Ed stalked around Winry's bed and took residence in the four caster based chair underneath the sole window in the room. Sitting down, Ed doubled over to where Al and Pinako couldn't see him, "Fine, I'll do it myself."

"Ed!" Pinako scolded and made her way to Ed.

Ed sat up right as Pinako rounded the nethermost of the hospital bed, "Look, Pinako, my leg has been fucked up for over a year and when I do feel like I am emotionally stable enough to have it re-connected it will need to have healed."

"What do you mean?" Pinako kneeled besides Ed's sitting form and saw that he had already taken off his shoe. Remembering Al said not to touch him, Pinako instructed, "Pull up your pant leg."

Ed pulled up the leg of the black, poly-blended sweatpants that had been supplied to him, "Last time I was here, Winry had to push my arm's port up because it shifted and now…this port has cut up into my leg and-"

"My God, Ed," Pinako could only stare as the severed splits of skin going up his thigh. "You don't only need your limb disconnected, you need to have that port removed."

"I know. But the connector of the leg is stuck in the port. I tried to get it out earlier today. Please just disconnect it," Ed ran his hand through his bangs.

Moving lower to be eyelevel with Ed's port, Pinako assessed, "How the hell have you been walking around on this? I'd have to yank it out, Ed. I'm not sure if now is the best time."

"Granny, please…" Pinako looked up at giant liquefied eyes. She could have sworn tears were welling in his eyes when he said, "It hurts like hell, ok?"

Pinako needed no more swaying, "Ok, Ed. We'll take it out. Let's go-"

"I'm not leaving Winry. Do it here," Ed claimed in a low-slung voice.

Again, Pinako knew she couldn't refute Ed, "Al, come here." Al slinked around Winry's hospital bed and hesitantly stood beside Pinako's kneeling form. Looking at Ed, Pinako articulated, "I know for whatever reason, it's best not to touch you, Ed." Ed held her eye contact but said nothing, "Bend your leg as best you can. And find something to hold onto." Ed followed the orders then Pinako coached, "Al, wedge your fingers right beneath the knee cuffs, from the top down. Ok, now grab the back of his ankle. Ok," she looked at Ed and observed his jaw locked when she pushed down on the minor lock to undam the nerve stabilizers and said, "pull." Al closed his now grey eyes and jerked back. An aggrieved noise came from Ed's throat and Pinako started to instruct Al to wait then go again but Al, knowing Ed would prefer to just get it over with as he did with the removal of the Nazi's bullets, pulled before she could. "Al, wait! Give him a second to-"

"No, Granny," Ed gasped, "go, Al."

After a few more yanks, Ed's leg popped out of the port and Al fell back, barely flinging his free hand back and catching himself from hitting the floor. Ed wheezed aloud with an 'ah' and knew promptly a couple of nerves had probably just disengaged. The pain caused him to clutch the top of the shifted port and he doubled over again and heaved, "Aw, fuck…ah, some of my nerves just severed…ah, aw, shit."

"I knew this was a bad idea," Pinako reproached and rushed to the little bluebird egg-colored counter in the corner of the room and twisted the faucet handle then stole one of the sterile cloths and quickly skimmed it through the hot water, making it wet but not drenched. Pinako took it back and handed it to Al. Al started dabbing around the port where blood started to discharge out, especially around the bolts, tuning out Ed's tongue-tied cries. Pinako communicated over Al's shoulder, "Ed, we won't be able to do anything with your nerves until your port's removed. Of course, I wouldn't touch them within the first fifteen hours or so after they severed anyway."

"Ed, come on, let's go find you somewhere to lie down, we don't have to leave the hospital," Al bargained.

"No, I'm not leaving," Ed denied Al's request. "I'll just hold this here," Ed basically shoved Al's hand off of the sterile cloth to hold it down, "and I'm just going to meditate," Ed hissed in pain, "ok?" Al knew there was futile to argue, as Pinako did, that there was no convincing him otherwise once his head leaned down and he rested the side of his head on Winry's bed, a few inches next to her hip. His shoulders were heaving and his frame was shuddering but Pinako and Al could only see the back of his head as the blonde pulled the band out of his hair. The pair deemed to leave him be; he was finally with Winry and they knew that's all he cared about.

"Are you sure? You don't have to do this on my behalf," Riza coolly established as she watched Roy pick Roman up. Only after twenty or so minutes of being in the room with his mother, Roman had worn himself out and keeled over beside her leg. "Mason will-"

"If you don't want me to hold him, you can just tell me," Roy joked.

Riza's grim demeanor didn't dissolve, "I didn't say I thought you were going to crack his cranium, I was just letting you know you didn't have to care for him."

"Drop it, Riza," Roy turned away from the woman and stepped to the LA-Z chair.

Roy turned with Roman cradled in his arm and was about to sit down but Riza stopped him, "Roy…"

When Roy peered up at her, Riza burrowed her face into her hands and did something Roy had never seen her do: she sobbed stridently and brazenly. Roy hurriedly spun around and sat Roman in the four-wheeled chair then leapt to Riza. He sat on the edge of the bed, his legs hanging off the side, feet on the ground and wrapped his left hand around the right side of her neck, his fingers supporting the bottom of her head. His hand gently stroked her golden hair as his fingers came to inflexibly support her head. Then he snaked his right arm around the middle of her torso, purposefully moving as to avoid the wounds on her shoulder and lower back.

His arm braced her back and his hand came to rest on the bottom of the ribs on the right side of her body. He pulled her upwards, towards his chest, and, despite her still technically lying down, he held her up. Her left arm, which exhibited the IV, merely rested on his right hip and she wound her right arm- elbow knocking into his ribs- beneath his under arm and slipped her hand up his uppermost back. Her fingers tightly gripped onto and twisted the drapery of his shirt. He curled his legs around enough to put his right thigh onto the bed while supporting himself with his left foot on the floor. To her bewilderment, he gradually pulled Riza into his lap. Her hand slid up from his hip bone to the side of his abs, "Let go of my shirt, Riza."

Riza whined, "But Roy-"

"Trust me." Roy's deep voice hit her head on when he leaned down until his lips were right beside her ear, "I just want you to feel safe, Riza; trust me."

Riza let go of his shirt. He laid her back down and swapped his hands' positions. His right hand settled on the base of her head and his left arm wrapped under her body, around her mid torso. Pulling her up, he re-situated her on his lap, cradling her. Her right arm meandered around Roy's torso again, her hand coming to rest on his lower back and once again twisting her fingers into his shirt. The right side, the least wounded, part of her face pressed into his chest, right below the clavicle. Her left hand once again rested on his hip bone. Riza respired a couple times and then sobs escaped her again. Roy closed his eyes when he heard her. He pulled her closer into his chest and he tilted his forehead to rest atop her head. After a while, her sobs stopped but the tears were still flowing and Roy eased her back onto the hospital bed and looked into her eyes and tentatively brushed her hair back.

He looked into her bloodshot, glowing red eyes and wiped a couple tears away as he mumbled, "I'll get you some water."

Riza clamped her right hand over her eyes and her shoulders shook, "Roy I know I've treated you..." Another sob absconded from the lithe woman and that sound combined with her last hanging statement made Roy turn around.

Roy battled the itch to hold her again when he settled his fists on the side of Riza's bed as a stabilizer, "Riza…I know what you're thinking and that's not how it is. I frighten myself sometimes, by how greedy I am of you; look what happened when you retreated from our relationship, from me. I went out of my mind because I needed my nourishment back. I just need you to be with me, Riza. I will need you on all counts, from start to finish."

Riza laughed gloomily, "Are you sure?"

Roy's stomach dropped, "How the hell can you ask me that?" Riza took an unstable breath but said zilch as Roy continued his interrogation, "Exactly what do you think our relationship means to me?"

"At this point, not much," Riza chuckled through a sob.

"Is this what you've been thinking since you woke up in Dublith? That you don't mean anything to me?" Roy's eyes narrowed in indictment. "Or probably even before that."

"From what happened two years ago to me screaming at you and hitting you about flame alchemy, yes. Yes, I have to and do think that."

Roy's voice took on an irate growl as he pushed away from the bed, "What happened two years ago? How would that give you the imprint that you meant nothing to me? I told you what the penalties of our agreement would be and you ignored me. The signs said stop but you went on whole-hearted. Do you know how betrayed I felt after what you did? If you think I don't regret everything we said or didn't say, you're a self-aggrandizer."

Roy bit his tongue in self-denigration and regret when Riza put her face in her hands and sobbed again, "Just…hold me."

"Riza-"

Riza shook her head and dropped her hands back into her lap, "No, sorry, sir. Never mind." Riza took in another whimpering, shaky sob, "I'm just upset about Winry and that our sons could have been injured or killed. I didn't mean to ask such a thing of you. It won't happen again."

Roy grabbed her wrist, "Listen to me-"

"I'd like to get some rest, sir."

His free hand cupped the side of her cheek and pulled her back to face him more roughly than he meant to, "Stop calling me sir, dammit!"

"And what were you talking about when Jean looked at you like that? Huh? It was almost too much? What the fu-"

"Rye, Mama?" The couple froze when Roman's speech met their ears, "Doing?"

They abandoned the conversation.

_5:56 AM, May 25, 1943, Central, Amestris_

Ed had drifted to a subterranean slumber with his head settled on the side of Winry's hospital bed. Through his disturbed sleep, he felt a heat on his head. The warmth moved from the top of his head to the bottom of his neck then disappeared just to repeat the pattern. Winry continued to run her fingers through Ed's blonde hair as tears fell from her eyes. When she had first woke, she thought Ed was a figment of her mind's eye but when she reached out and felt a solid mass, Winry knew he was real. She stared at his face and longed for him to open his gold-leaf eyes and wanted to hear his voice but she didn't want to wake him up. But she had to touch him. She raked her fingers through Ed's hair, surprised to find Ed's blonde locks loose, as she intermittently dragged her fingernails harder to somewhat scratch his scalp from the bottom up. Perhaps ten minutes later, when Winry's arm was growing indeed weak, Winry observed Ed's eyes fluttering and she saw ganders of brilliant gold. She knew she wanted him to kiss her and hold her but she didn't know he froze when he became he was cognizant of Winry's touch.

Winry very quietly croaked out, "Ed?" Ed moved out of Winry's reach but contained himself enough to do it unhurriedly as to not raise suspicion. He didn't want to distraught her. However, that plan went to hell when she flapped her hand around in the air in his direction, "Ed, take my hand." Ed forced himself to elevate his hand, catching her floundering one in his palm. _His wrist was grabbed as he was thrown into the mass grave, forced to crawl over the decaying cadavers to get out._ He closed his eyes and his chest started rising. Auspiciously, Winry was sedated enough to miss the reactions. "Ed, do you still love me?"

"Immortally, Winry," Ed's fingers compulsorily pushed up into the soft flesh of the underside of her wrist. He knew her as well as he knew himself, "That fight was my fault. I didn't mean those things."

"I'm sorry I slapped you, I just…" Winry's tender, hoarse voice stopped when Ed released her.

"It doesn't matter." He laid his head back in its spot beside Winry's hip, feeling fragile from his own injuries, "I love you and none of it matters."

Winry lifted her hand from Ed's outwardly tensed hand and slightly grazed the tips of her index and middle fingers together over the cuts over his eyes, "What happened to your face, Ed? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. I'll explain it when you're better," Ed consolingly guaranteed.

"Is Al back, too?" Winry's breath hitched halfway in anxiety that he wasn't and halfway because of an electric bolt striking through her back and chest.

"Yeah, he's home, too," Ed tried to smile.

"Ed…"

"Yeah, Win?"

"I have something to tell you. It's…and I…" Winry was washed in the pusillanimous darkness of her heart that he would reject being a father. "Ed, I, um…just don't get upset or-"

"Ed?" Al opened the door and called for his brother. Ed sustained Winry's eye contact. Hardly able to see Ed's stare, Al looked in the route of the stare and saw Winry's languidly open eyes, "Winry, you're awake!" Al brought his tone down, recognizing he had just yelled, "Praises."

"Al," Winry tried to smile, succeeding in only a half one, "you're hair and eyes. You look like Trisha."

Al blushingly smiled, "I know. When we came through The Gate…well it's a long story. We'll save it for a rainy day." Ed's face fell when he twisted his head up to meet Al's apprehensive voice. "Ed, two alchemists and Cretian and Aerugan soldiers have entered Central but they've suddenly stopped attacking. They're in civilian clothing and witnesses can only identify them by basic traits, like red hair and blue eyes and black jackets." Ed just stared in question at what Al was implying, "Do you want to go?"

Ed proclaimed, "I'm going to stay with Winry."

Al noticed Winry looked at him and gave a half smile in adoration. Al sighed, "Ok."

"Al," Winry interrupted the brothers' perplexing returns to each other's responses, "is Riza ok?"

"Yeah, she's been awake a few times. General Mustang has been staying in there," Al heard Winry hum in comprehension.

Winry glanced to Ed, "Did you see everybody? You can go visit with them."

"I'd prefer to stay with you," Ed bit his lip and convinced himself to airily lay his flat hand on her stomach. Al was rigorously surprised by his notion but noticed Ed had to close his eyes to touch her. He had to pretend she wasn't a person. "Besides, I can't move."

"What? Why?" Winry laid her hand over Ed's on her stomach.

Ed was a cyclone inside when her hand smothered his, "My automail was destroyed. I will need a new port on my leg. My arm's not much better."

"What happened?" Winry demanded with her rocky voice. "Are you ok? God, I fixed your automail wrong didn't?"

"No, no, no, Winry. No, you had it perfect. It was my fault; I got into trouble and outgrew it," Ed reassured.

"Outgrew it? Damn, how tall are you now?" Winry pried while being unsure of why Ed's eyes were closed. She chalked it up to the injuries he detectably had.

Ed smiled as to not raise alarm in his beloved, "Six three."

"Wow, yeah, you definitely outgrew it," Winry laughed with bated breath.

Ed still forged his smile and unfastened his eyes despite not wanting to, "You look different too, you know."

Winry's face dropped and her hand pressed his hand over her stomach, much to his consternation, "I know; I gained weight."

"No you didn't," Ed's eyes furrowed.

"I'm only five seven, Ed, so I know it's obvious. I was one hundred and nineteen when you left the most recent time; I'm one hundred and thirty two now," Winry absurdly complained about the typical weight for her height and small frame.

Ed's looked at her as if she had just punched him in the face, "I think those pain meds are going to your head. Do you really think I'm superficial? Even if I was, you are _perfect_, Blondie."

Winry squeezed Ed's hand, "Thank you, _Blondie._" Winry had an abrupt burning in her throat and she looked like she had a silent cough. Ed's leg tensed when he gripped her fingers that fell in between his. Ed kept having flashbacks to Dachau but he endured his imprisoning fright for the sake of Winry. She gently cupped her throat and croaked out, "I have an automail leg that is similar to the design I would always make you. It was for a customer and he was six four. Same with a right arm I made for another man; he was six one. Granny can add and subtract a few pieces until they fit you. She taught me how to install ports so she can understandably do that too."

"No, I don't want automail right now," Ed declined.

"Why? You can't move around, Ed," Winry groaned then whimpered and moved her free hand but couldn't reach her unoccupied right hand to the wound on the right side of her chest properly.

Ed swallowed cripplingly and quietly huffed through his open mouth. Al was stunned he was touching Winry as much as he was. But Al could tell how panicky and disinclined his brother was. Ed caught her hand, "Stop, Win, you're going to fuck up your IV. Are you trying to reach the wound on your chest?" Winry moaned in ratification and Ed looked to Al, "Al, can you move me?"

Al was focused on the lovers' newly laced hands in surprise by the contact as he came around the bed, "Yeah." Al did not have to ask Ed where he wanted to be moved. Al bent down and pushed the chair towards the head of the hospital bed. Ed's straight-facing body was even with the top of Winry's ribs before Al stopped.

Al knew he didn't want to interrupt his brother and proxy sister's reuniting and let Ed know his next course of action, "Ed, I'm going to go back to Major Armstrong's mansion to check on Luminista."

Ed vaguely glanced at Al but was sincere in his treaty, "Yeah, you need to go check on her. She did get the worst of the fall."

Winry didn't bother asking who Luminista was, knowing the brothers would just brush her off, "Be careful, Al. You said there are alchemists in Central. I don't want you hurt."

"You know I'm going to say the same thing, Al." Ed assumed a profound frown, "Can you call the hospital and ask for somebody? Let me know you got there."

Al nodded and kidded with Winry and Ed, "Ok, I will, Mommy and Daddy."

Winry giggled on tenterhooks and Ed smiled slightly. The door closed behind Al of its own accord. Winry looked at Ed when she felt warmness on her chest, just above her breast. She looked back at Ed and found his hand over her taped-on bandage. He put very little pressure over the dressed wound. She sighed, "Thank you, Ed." After the heat from Ed's hand sunk into her flesh a while later, she drifted in and out of consciousness again. The miniature amount of time she was awake wore her out. Just when she started having lively sleeping dreams, she felt Ed's hand lift. She opened her eyes again, "Why did you move?"

Ed didn't say anything and she slightly twisted her head despite the burning in her throat. Ed used the iron frame underneath the bed to haul himself forward. He composed himself on his left elbow and forearm while putting counter pressure on his right leg, forcing himself to find the muscle to elevate slightly to the side of Winry's cheekbone. Winry figured his intent and tilted her head as much as she could without having any sweltering in her neck. Ed's head dipped down and Winry's left hand came around to tangle in his loose hair to bring his head further down. Their lips met and their souls sparked just like they had when they made love to each other. He felt Winry tilt her head and move her lips against his. Soon enough, her mouth opened and Ed felt his heart swell with contentment that he was back with Winry, as Winry was him. Her hand slid around his head to stop on the hinge of his jaw as she ran her tongue along his bottom lip.

But something happened. Inside Ed, something happened. The distress from affection won and Ed hated himself for it. _Let go, you bitch._ Ed pushed back all of a sudden and inched his hand back in a skipping motion until he was seated in the chair again. Winry didn't tell Ed, but she felt like she did something wrong when he looked opposite her at the floor with a dejected face.

Winry's voice persisted hoarsely, "Go get your ports and automail re-installed, Ed. You can barely move."

He could tell she was trying to get rid of him, "I don't want to leave you, Winry."

"Ed, I know you'll be back. I'm about to pass out anyway; I feel drained. Go get yourself fixed. I'm worried you'll hurt yourself trying to get around. I know you and I know when you get ready to move, you'll try to and I don't want you hurt. You look bad enough. Those cuts will leave nasty scars."

Her remarks made Ed flinch. If she thought the cuts on his face were nasty, what would she think about the horrible scars all over the rest of his body? He whispered, "Yeah." He transferred his vision from the floor to Winry, "When somebody comes in to see you I'll get them to take me where Granny can do it."

"Ed?"

"Yeah, Win?"

"What's wrong?"

"I don't feel well."

She knew he was restraining the answer but she was too pain-riddled to challenge him, "Why did you cut your hair?"

"I didn't want it this length. It just happened," Ed didn't explain any further, not wanting to get into that yet. In fact, he was insecure if he could handle talking about it again. Telling Al was hard enough and Al had seen myriads of things Winry never had.

"Oh," Winry felt a weird vibe from Ed when he said that, as she did after his response to her earlier comment. "You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

"I know," Ed returned.

Winry only grinned then she began to fall insentient, "I love you, Ed."

"I love you too, Winry." Ed sighed, "Get some rest."

_6:54 PM_

"I can't endure every season on the oceans of my soul."

"Let me be your cause."

"It messed me up."

"Just don't take the cure."

"I've been winding down for years."

"It has been a few bitter years, hasn't it, Ed?"

"The fire in my heart has burnt out, Winry. What do you expect?"

"Everything."

Once Winry had awoken from her slumber, they couldn't help but cut to the heart.

After Winry told him about Emile, Ed sat in shock until Winry steered their conversation to Ed's state of mind. They maintained gazes into the other's eyes when Ed laid a rickety, flat hand on Winry's stomach as she lay on her side with cataract waterfalls charging from her eyes as her hand smothered Ed's. Ed felt like arsenic was in his throat but resisted retreat from the touch for the sake of Winry.

"You'll tire of me, Win. I'm not who I used to be."

"I just want you close to me."

"There's something wrong with me, Winry."

"There's nothing wrong with you, Edward."

"Win-"

"My life is built around you. When you were gone, I wasn't sure I could keep going. I want to be your silver lining again, Ed."

Ed almost smiled, "Sorry, you're gold."

"I'll take it."

Ed flipped his hand so the back was kissing the hospital gown stretched over Winry's stomach and clutched her hand, "I'm sorry I wasn't here."

"Don't think about that. We're together again," Winry choked out as tears trickled over the bridge of her nose and over her temple as she constricted his hand in a despairing grip. "Every day we're together is magic…let's not even think about it. I'll fill your emptiness if you fill mine."

"I love you, Winry."

"I love you, too, Ed."

"Mama!"

Ed's muscles tensed when he heard the sound of his young son's voice. This was Ed's first convention with his son. And he was terrified. Emile stopped short when he caught eyes with his father's. Winry intervened, "Angel Bird, this is your father."

Ed expected Emile to be like him, to resent his father for a chosen absence. But Emile defied Ed's prospects as he sprinted to his father's sitting form and bolted his arms around the alchemist's upper calf. The fact that Ed had two missing limbs couldn't have mattered less to the small boy. Ed felt a concoction between fright and worship, especially when Emile declared, "Love, Dada."

Ed's jaw locked but, again, he overpowered his anxiety for the sake of a loved one. Ed leaned over and put his hand out to Emile. Emile smiled and took a hold of Ed's hand with both of his so Ed could sweep his child up into his chest in an embrace. Emile grappled his arms around Ed's neck as his feet settled on his father's thighs. Winry twisted her hand in the hospital sheets and basked in the picture that would last for days in the recesses of her heart.

Ed still shook from the contact and coaxed his son to crawl on the end of Winry's bed, by her feet. A shallow whisper entertained Winry's ear, "Je pense que cela va sauver ma vie, ma chère."

"What?"

"It's a language called French and it means, I think this will save my life, my dear."

_8:45 PM_

Winry couldn't sleep. She lay in bed on her left side while her sutured shoulder and neck burned like fingernails were being repeatedly gouged in her wounds. Though the pain extended her alert state, Winry couldn't keep herself from delicately cupping Ed's cheek with a twisted hand as he slumbered with his head on the edge of the hospital bed again. She had noticed Ed's understated reactions to her touch that she knew he thought he hid and when she asked him a second time about the nervousness, he gave her a short summary of why he was behaving as such.

Ed could scarcely choke out the words to tell her a few sentences about Dachau, primarily focusing on the difficulty he had with physical contact.

Then Winry told Ed the full story of her attack. His emotions became so unrecognizable as the tale progressed, Winry wasn't sure what he was thinking.

But she knew Ed would never hurt her, never degrade her, as she sunk her fingertips against Ed's cheekbone and felt more safety than she had since he left. An aggrieved moan fled from Winry as the stinging in her shoulder increased, causing Ed's eyes to jut open, "What's wrong?"

"Please, don't leave me again, Ed," Winry besought with a heavy tongue.

Noting that Emile was steadfastly snuggled into himself at the end of the bed, Ed forklifted himself closer to Winry. Wanting to be in as much contact as he could tolerate while avoiding causing her pain, Ed laid his head on her unscathed stomach, "I won't leave, Winry. I'm yours." Ed swallowed nickel as he nuzzled his nose against Winry's stomach, "There are paths left in our shoes and we're going to walk them together."

Winry knew the mercurial tears were building up but she was blinking wildly to air dry them into nonexistence and her nails caressed Ed's scalp. Her fingers raked through Ed's loose hair until she realized her body was vibrating. Then it hit her, "Are you shaking?"

"Yeah…" Ed admitted. "It's just-"

"I'll stop."

"I'm sorry. I know it's ridiculous."

Winry's hand retracted from Ed's hair, figuring his head must have been subject to a fraction of his trauma, "No, it's not. I know I-"

Ed couldn't take the contact any longer and lifted his head, "Are you infuriated with me, Win?"

"What?" Winry sniveled.

Ed peered up at his child's mother and her cobalt orbs, "That bastard-"

"I said earlier not to think about it, Ed," Winry's hand came to hover near Ed's hand but she let it fall to her side.

"I can't help it," Ed self-confessed quietly. "It drives me up the wall someone laid a finger on you." Ed rotated to sit upright beside her, losing her eyes, "You had to have stitches, goddammit."

Winry's timid voice chewed on Ed's heartstrings as she muttered, "Does it disgust you?"

Ed's head instantly snapped towards Winry's closed eyes. He knew this was a situation where his own disturbance had to be put on the backburner as he warped his upper body to face Winry and stretched out with a contorted back to stroke her oily hair, "No, nothing about you disgusts me. I love every piece of you."

"I love you, too, and I…" Winry placed both hands on stomach as her voice hitched with a sob, "I'm so ashamed in so many ways. I wanted you to be the only man to ever be inside of me."

Ed shoved off from his position the moment Winry's sob battered his ear. He scooted off the chair with his elbow on the bed and balanced his weight between his two limbs to stand up once more. He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers. Her fingers compactly gripped onto and twisted in his shirt. He implored, "Je t'aime, Winry, and that motherfucker _raped_ you, that's not a man and that doesn't mean the definition of us has changed."

Winry sniffled, "Promise me that this won't change your opinion of me."

"I swear that I have always and will always hold you in the same regard," Ed leaned his head higher. Winry respired a couple times and then sobs escaped her again. Ed closed his eyes when he heard her. After a while, her sobs stopped but the tears were still flowing. This made Ed reveal himself a bit, "Necessity has become the mother of our invention, hasn't it, Win? I needed you more than organ function and I dreamt of you every time I shut my eyes. The whole world would drop dead except you." He readjusted his torso and Ed's head dipped down as Winry's left hand came around to tangle in his loose hair to bring his head further down.

However, as Winry was about to lock her lips with his, Ed's eyes shot open and he sprung back into the seat. She figured this was a time where physical contact had become too much. Instead of becoming angered like she would have years before the softening that Ed's absence caused her heart, Winry turned on her unscathed side towards Ed and changed subjects, "Go get your ports and automail re-installed, Ed. You can barely move."

"Whatever you want, ma chère," Ed gave in without a second thought.

"Take off your shirt," Winry entreated. "Let me see if your shoulder needs a new port like your leg does."

Ed looked down, "No."

"It's not-"

"I said no!" Ed yelled and then placed his head back on the edge of the bed, facing away from Winry.

Winry didn't ask again.

_4:15 AM, May 26, 1943, Central, Amestris_

Everyone huddled in an examination room after collectively agreeing to escape the new obnoxious guests in the waiting room. Having been absent during Ed's automail tune ups throughout the years, they were cringing as Ed's jaw locked and his nostrils flared at Pinako unscrewing both his ports and replacing the newfangled metal over the raw flesh. The blood spewed as Pinako screwed the bolts in his skin and Gracia stuck her tongue out in a repelled fashion and turned her head. Al held the ports in place as Ed's nerves were strung through them. At that point, half the room cleared out.

As usual, Ed pressed that the procedure be concluded as soon as possible and had Pinako connect his automail to his ports nearly an hour later. Once he had a new leg to walk on, he wouldn't even accept a wheelchair despite the pain walking caused to get back to Winry's room.

At the sound of the door clicking, Winry's eyes bust open, "Ed? Al?"

Ed responded right away, "It's me. How are you feeling?"

"I'm just sleepy," Winry mindlessly mumbled as Ed made his way to stand by her bed. "Dreamin' about you and Al."

Half of Ed's mouth rose and he lightly goaded, "Oh, yeah?"

Winry's hooded eyes met Ed's gold-leaf orbs, "Will it ever be like it was?"

Unsure of where she was going with the question, Ed asked for clarification, "What do you mean?"

"Like it was before all the violence." Winry looked at her hand that was furthest from Ed, "Do you think our lives could go back to the way they were before all of the violence?"

Knowing she meant his time in the concentration camp and her attack, Ed sighed and conceded, "I don't think so, Win."

"Gee, good to know you think we'll be victims forever," Winry scoffed.

Ed huffed, "I don't mean it like that, ok? Look, just because we can't go back to the way things were doesn't mean that we can't…can't heal. We have the cuts, but one day they'll just be scars, right?"

"Well what if the cuts never heal?" Winry grinded her teeth as she thought about her and Riza's victimization.

"Fibrosis and collagen. Cuts have to heal," Ed tried to lighten the mood.

Winry turned her gaze back to Ed, finding some humor in his statement, "OK, science guy. Just promise me that if the cuts ever break open before they become scars we'll stop the bleed."

"We'll use spider webs if we have to."

_8:44 PM, May 29, 1943, Central, Amestris_

The earth shook a few days later. The war had come to their front door as the enemy soldiers wreaked mayhem upon Central. They had chosen the dead of night to come from the shadows and ignite their treacherous bloodshed. The sounds of gunshots awoke Ed into a panic at Winry's hospital bedside. Winry, as a side effect of her medication, drowsily responded to Ed's head shooting up from the edge of the bed, "Ed?"

"Guns, I hear guns," Ed stiffened as if a deer in headlights.

Because of her drugged state, Winry took a few moments to register what that meant in many instances, most acutely, for Ed, "Ed, hey, come back to me."

"Guns. Screaming. I hear guns and screaming," Ed repeated in a hypnotized manner.

Winry, despite the critical pain in her back and throat, push upped from her flat position to reach for him, "Ed, look at me…" Ed's head remained stapled to the side, peering out the window. "Ed, Ed! Look at me!" Winry then barely caressed Ed's cheek to grab his attention, "Edward-"

Then Ed was possessed by a malignant spirit. He grabbed Winry's hand and twisted it then scrambled from the chair. Standing up, every muscle in his body panged but he slogged around the bed, "They want an animal? I'll give them a goddamn animal."

"Ed!"

Anger is one letter short of danger.


	13. Rose White, Rose Red

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do not own the manga/anime characters, plots, or creation.

**Bless My Body, Bless My Soul**

**By TheKennethAnger**

Chapter 13: Rose White, Rose Red

**Bella detesta matribus**** - ****Wars, the horror of mothers. (Horace)**

_8:44 PM, May 29, 1943, The Armstrong Mansion, Central, Amestris_

Winry sniffled and gripped Izumi's hand skintight, "Did you find him yet?"

Izumi looked straight into Winry's eyes and her voice was tough no matter how frail her spirit was, "No, but Al's out looking."

"It's not safe, Izumi," Winry's voice quivered as Jean and Miles frowned at her tears and burden. "He could get attacked by soldiers or one of those alchemists. Rebecca and Breda themselves said that there's been more concealed enemy soldiers that have slipped into Central. Creta has already overthrown West City and Aerugo is battling over East City and North City. Then Drachma has those new alchemists attacking Briggs."

"Ed is ok, Winry," Izumi assuaged. "He can defend himself."

"He heard those gunshots and just, like, fell into a trance. A spell totally overcast him." Winry felt more tears roll over the bridge of her nose and her temple as she lay on her side, unable to lay flat due to the ache in her back, "He ran away from me before I could get a hold of him. He twisted my hand."

Izumi delicately responded, "Fear and anger are some of the few defects in Ed's human behavior. And his anger typically always eclipses his fear."

Winry heard a shoddy voice from the doorway as her eyes flicked to the auburn-headed woman, "Where's Al?"

Izumi then too turned her attention to the heavy-eyed Roma, "Luminista, right?"

"Guilty," Luminista gently cupped the underside of her slashed jawline.

"Al is out looking for Ed," Izumi informed. Releasing Winry's hand, Izumi stood to come eye to eye with Luminista, who was an inch or so taller than the housewife. "Winry-"

Luminista interrupted, however, when Izumi motioned towards Winry, "You're Winry?"

The two loves of the Elric brothers locked gazes. Sapphire eyes met emerald ones as the women took in each other's presence, both having only heard of one another through Al. Winry lay on her left side, her loose bleached hair hidden behind her and her bangs creating a shadow over her right cheekbone. Her eyes were pouring like a segmented waterfall and her lips quivered like the hanging valley underneath. Winry had on a loose shirt that fell over so that half of the bandages from her wounds could be seen, some with tiny brownish spots, and her neck was wrapped seven or eight times over with the same gauze. Luminista's first thought upon seeing the mother was far from what Winry expected the Roma to have. _God, she's beautiful._ On the other side of the equation was a similar sentiment. Luminista had cuts cluttering her forehead and left cheek while her plump lips were busted in multiple areas. Her auburn hair still flowed as straight as a stick but was tangled and had sheens of oil from lack of recent cleanliness. Her eyes were sallow and she looked like she was about to topple over yet Winry could only think, _Wow, go Al._

"Yeah, I'm Winry," Winry falteringly smiled through a hitching breath.

"Ed's captivated by you," Luminista's eyes fell close even though she willed them otherwise as she spoke.

Luminista cradled the left side of her skull as Winry sniffled, "And Al's captivated by you."

Luminista shook her head marginally and opened her eyes, "Yeah, those Elrics. I swear, I can only go to sleep around Al if I have everything prepared for when I get killed by a stalker." That ripped a little smile out of Winry as Luminista leaned against the wall. Having been very inquisitive about Winry for a while, Luminista kept the tête-à-tête going, "You installed Ed's automail, right?"

"Yes. Did Al tell you about it?" Winry inquired.

"Yeah, he also told me you were ten. I still can't believe that; it's remarkable," Luminista bragged on Winry. "He's lucky to have someone with brains who cares."

"Thank you," Winry sniffled again. "Ed wasn't my first client but his procedures meant the most to me."

"He loves you." Winry nearly questioned her but she got her answer out there first, "I heard Ed once tell Al that marriage should be as immortal as the soul and he wanted to marry you." _Immortally, Winry. _That generated a plumpness in Winry's heart as she smiled through her ever running tears. "If you'll indulge me…" Luminista slid down the wall during her awkward pause, "…you two remind me of a myth. You see what will remain of us is love.

"You two remind me of Psyche and Cupid." Izumi, Winry, and, covertly, Sig, Gracia, and Miles were paying close consideration, "You see, Psyche and Cupid are perceived in an ancient religion from my world called Greek mythology to be the epitome of soul mates. Psyche was a mortal that was so beautiful, the goddess of love, Venus, was jealous and sent her son, Cupid, to make it to where no man could fall in love with her. So Cupid sees Psyche and thinks she's so beautiful that he sticks himself with his own arrow, which were what he shot people with to make them fall in love. So Psyche's family becomes concerned that men have stopped wanting to court her but they don't know it's because she is meant to quote, unquote marry a monster.

"So Zephyr, who was the god of the winds, swept her into the air kingdom to live with her husband. But Psyche doesn't know who her husband is and he comes to bed with her at night but won't allow her to see his face. Well, she gets too curious and lights a candle while he was asleep and the quote, unquote monster turns out to be Cupid. So wax accidentally drips on his shoulder and he wakes up in a rage and leaves. Well then she goes to Venus to help her find Cupid again. But Venus is still pissed and makes Psyche do all these tasks to get to Cupid. The first two are pieces of cake but the third task is to go to Persephone, goddess of the underworld, and ask for a little of her beauty. So Persephone faked giving Psyche a box with some of her beauty and Psyche opens the box and a tomblike sleep is what actually inhabited it. So by this time, Cupid realizes that he was sorry to leave Psyche in anger and when he finds her, she's basically dead. So he goes to the gods and pleads for her life and they decide to make her a goddess instead of a mortal and she is given butterfly wings as to fly with Cupid.

"See, your soul mate has your sense of direction. When both of your direction is to the clouds, you've found the right person. The way I see it, how deeply you and Ed affect one another, you bring life to life for the other. Love is the condition in which the bliss of your soul mate is vital to your own. You and Ed are unquestionably soul mates; Psyche and Cupid."

"I like to think so," Winry sniffled and went to sit up. Not finding the strength, Izumi slouched to Winry's left side and propped her up enough to drop her shoulder to serve as a buttress for Winry's stability. "Were you with Ed and Al the whole time on the other side of The Gate?"

"Not the whole time but enough to know that his reaction must have frightened you."

"Ed twisted my arm. He's never done that, even when we were little kids, not even in a joking manner." Winry wept her way into Luminista's heart, "I need to find Ed."

"You aren't going anywhere," Izumi asserted.

There was a clamor in the next room over as Al banged the front door shut. The freshly brunette hurriedly became faced with Miles, Gracia, Sig, Winry, Izumi, and Luminista with a red face and shiny eyes. Al proceeded to walk to Winry and envelop his arm around her lower back as he sat beside her, his face resting on the top of her head as she offered a one-armed hug. Sig looked to Izumi and she looked up at him. He saw that her eyes were glossy too but she was blinking away the tears. Gracia gathered the children and left the room. Al pulled back from Winry once her sobs waned, "I can't find him, Winry. I think I was hot on his heels all evening but he suddenly stopped leaving a trail. I'll go back out in a few minutes but I'm feeling very woozy right now."

"It's ok, Al, you-"

Izumi turned to Sig, "I'm going after Ed." At that moment, blood shot from Izumi's mouth.

Winry pleaded, "Izumi, no. At least wait on Al…"

Sig ordered, "No, dear, you need not strain yourself."

Izumi leaned on him for a second, "No, Sig, I need to go get Ed. He's having neurosis. He's manic, unhinged, and he's raising hell. Ed's losing control to his infuriation and agony of what happened in that limbo. He's going to start slaying people, and I won't let it happen- even if it kills me."

Sig's brows creased as he saw there was no stopping the tattooed woman, "If you're gone for more than a couple hours, I'm coming after you."

She offered a small smile then walked towards the door. After Izumi took her exodus, Sig sighed and trod into the kitchen. Gracia sat with Elysia in her lap and Armstrong sat on another chair around the kitchen table with Roman and Emile hanging off of him. Gracia commented on Izumi's maternal instinct. Sig took a seat as Elysia climbed down from Gracia's lap, punctually being replaced by Emile, and inquired, "What's exactly happening with Ed and Al?"

As Luminista swooned over a fatigued Alphonse and the other residents of the house made their way into the kitchen, Winry took to her feet and silently moved out of the house on feeble, stumbling feet.

_9:21 PM, May 29, 1943, Roy's House, Central, Amestris_

Breda came through the door like a cannonball. Slapping papers on Roy's kitchen table, Roy looked up from his black coffee to Breda in inaudible question. Breda wheezed, "They've sent messages." When Roy didn't respond, Breda took the hint and picked up the papers to read, "From Aerugo, Lazarus Enzo. Stop. From Drachma, Babirye Folami. Stop. From Creta, Selvaggia Tommaso. Stop."

Roy interrupted with a raised eyebrow, "The leaders of Aerugo, Drachma, and Creta telegraphed Amestris?"

"Yes! Now shush!" Breda daringly commanded. "Prepare every dog your country can muster. We will be in your cities; we will be your people. We now know of the return of the Fullmetal Alchemist. Protect the youngling as you may but he will die under a flood of Amestrian blood before nightfall."

"Youngling?" Rebecca called out as she made her way to the kitchen doorway to speak face to face with Roy, "How old do they think Ed is?"

"They know how old he is. But as far as being a seasoned war alchemist, he's a youngling," Roy assured.

"It's a sad life sometimes," Riza sighed as she leaned on Rebecca for support of her frail legs and crushed ankle. "They come from one world to escape a war just to come to another world war." Roy blinked a few times in surprise that Riza was out of bed. "Do you think the leaders' plans are so extensive that they could follow through with their claim? These aren't the same leaders from the last time I was home."

Roy's coffee swished around when he sat the white, ceramic cup on the oak tabletop and stood, "Lazarus Enzo is the cordial but smug bastard over Aerugo. But in reality, that woman Amethyst Roch is the leader and likes to pretend like everyone thinks Enzo is so she won't get assassinated." Roy stepped to Riza and she released her death grip on Rebecca to use his forearms as her firsthand support beams. "Though I don't think she would have to worry about that as far as Aerugan citizens go because she is quite the temperamental sociopath and if she were to survive, the assassin and his family would be goners. Then Babirye Folami is the dictator of Drachma. After Kimbley got the leader of Drachma to attack Briggs and the Brigg's men killed their old leader Folami fought to power and he's now the dictator of Drachma. Then Selvaggia Tommaso is the leader of Creta. He's not seen, kind of like Roch, except he's not temperamental like her, he's very reassured and commanding. Otherwise, I don't know much about them aside from the fact that Roch, Folami, and Tommaso put their countries' forces together to overthrow Amestris due to perpetually undisclosed reasons aside from humiliation. As far as we've gathered, they've decided that once they conquer us, they're going to divide the land into thirds and enslave Amestrians, kill the alchemists, and I think they're secretly planning to kill the new alchemists they've trained after all is said and done."

"Are you going out again?" Riza bit her lip in anticipation.

Breda chimed in, "He has to, Hawkeye."

Riza donned an expression of dismay as Roy's eyebrows furrowed in apology, "I have to."

"Take me upstairs," Riza irritably demanded, resulting in Roy plucking her up bridal style after an intense staring contest.

Roy ignored Breda and Rebecca's concerned stares as he came through the dining room and up the stairs with Riza draped in his arms. Depositing Riza on the bed in the spare room she had been inhabiting, Roy sighed, "I can't sit this out and hope it goes away, Riza."

"You'll be out there without anyone watching your back. If you leave, I leave," Riza enforced her system.

"Absolutely not. You're not leaving this house," Roy stood to close her door, predicting that it was about to get loud and he could already picture Breda and Rebecca tiptoeing up the stairs to eavesdrop.

"You don't make my decisions," Riza scathed.

"I _said_ you aren't leaving this house, Riza. I can't let history repeat itself," Roy stood solid by his verdict.

"I'm coming with you," Riza's voice was on the rise.

"No, you aren't," Roy frantically denied and returned to Riza's side as he kneeled next to the bed. "You can't even stand up."

"You aren't going to leave me here, Roy!" Riza became further frustrated.

"I care about you too much to let you go out there and get shot again or worse!" Roy battled.

"God, fuck you! Why do I even bother?" Riza yelled and meagerly shoved him, making him take a smack his hand on the floor to keep from tipping over.

Roy recovered in a snap and grabbed her wrists, fearing to make contact with any other parts of her body because of her wounds, "I'm trying to keep you safe! I can't handle you getting hurt again!"

"And you think _I _can handle _you_ getting hurt?" Riza tried to yank her wrists free but only felt immense pain in her shattered ankle when she attempted standing.

"You have a child!" Roy reasoned. Riza's face assumed a troubled expression and she opened her mouth to say something but retracted her decision. Roy exhaled and unconfined Riza's wrists, "Riza, you're all Roman has. You're all I have."

_10:49 PM, May 28, 1943, Central, Amestris_

Roy didn't have to search long to find Ed and Al; all he had to do was following the explosions and wreckage. The enemy soldiers and five enemy alchemists executed their attack and Central was in upheaval. Roy only caught a glimpse of the Elrics, but he witnessed both touching the ground, making the cement like iron rations. Then they ran off. But he'd managed to catch up with them again. Roy rounded the corner of the last building in a row of high, crumbling brick apartments to come face to face with Ed and Al. Ed was viciously staring a frowning Alphonse down when Roy yelled out, "You're going to end up killing people if you two don't stop!" Al looked down in unabashed shame and Ed turned his head from Roy, looking onward at the flaming building, caused by his alchemy and ignition of the gas furnaces inside.

As unexpectedly as during Roy's stint in a hospital bed, Olivier's voice shot off from behind Roy, "Answer, Elrics! No matter how idealistic it is to play by such rules, you two vowed to never kill anyone!"

Edward's head snaps toward her as he viciously growled through his barred teeth, "Things change, Armstrong!"

Olivier drew back in confusion and observed the busted lip and peppered cuts around his eye as Roy implored, "Ed, you don't mean that!"

"Yes, I do!" Ed took a step forward, surprising Roy in the fact that the general actually felt a twinge of fear.

Al grabbed Ed's arm, "Brother."

"If you could have seen the horrors in that other world like I did, Mustang, you'd understand how things can fucking change!" Ed brought Al along with him when Al wouldn't let go of his arm.

"Brother, stop," Al tried to root his feet firmer.

Ed took another step forward, "I've lost something I can never get back and that's why I've changed! And things will not be the same as when I was here last! Edward's dead so you better find a new fucking hero!"

Ed jerked his arm away from Al and took off despite Al's calling. Jumping over the rubble and a half-fallen fence, Ed shot off like a rabbit through the alleyway and Al knew he had no chance of catching his brother. However, looking at Roy's shocked face and Olivier's baffled one, Al opted to follow Ed's trail, but Olivier decided he would do no such thing, "I would like to be informed of what that was, Elric."

Al slid his hands over his face in exasperation that Ed kept leaving him to explain the blonde's behavior, "I haven't made any of the explosions today."

"Al, come on!" Izumi boomed from the end of the alley which Ed had fled. "You aren't going to fight anymore!"

"I have to help Ed, Izumi!" Al contended.

Izumi laid the law down, "No, you're going to go back to the mansion to rest and calm down! I told you before I left the mansion, _I'm_ going to find Ed!"

Al shook his head, his hands resting on his hips, "I'm not that upset, Izumi! I can't, I- "

Izumi spoke sternly as her fists clenched, "Do as I say, Alphonse!"

Al bit his lip and knew Izumi saw through his façade to his upset about Ed. He broke, "Make sure he comes back please! I'm not going to go back to the mansion but I am going to keep looking for Winry! If you need me, make enough noise and I'll be there!"

Izumi had to be the bearer of bad news, "Al!" Al looked at her to let her know she had his attention, "Mei Chang is at the house with Winry and Luminista!"

Al's face drained.

Al gulped at the thought of having to deal with Mei with Luminista within ear shot. He figured it was in his best interest to look for Winry instead. While his anxiety plagued him, Izumi set off to find her prodigal son. And Al had to trust her to find Ed and bring him back down from the atmosphere.

Another hour of searching and Izumi finally had the chance to deflate Ed's rising anguish.

Izumi shouted, "Edward!"

Ed screamed, "I don't want your damn help!"

Izumi assured, "I'm not here to help; I'm going for your jugular, Ed!"

Ed turns to her, eyes narrowed, burning like flaming doubloons, "I'd like to see you try."

"Alphonse told me what happened."

Ed's nostrils flared and his face fell, only to ignite again, "It's none of your damn business, Izumi!"

Izumi moved closer to the blonde, "Al is beside himself and keeps saying that he's lost his brother!"

Once again, Ed's face fell, and he looked to the side. Izumi took that moment to attack. She kicked Edward's hand into the rubble and pinned it with her foot. Clapping her hands together, she transmuted the ground to cover Edward's torso and arms so he could not transmute.

Ed feverishly thrashed, "You bitch, let me go!"

She punched Ed in the face despite how reprehensible it made her feel, "You're spiraling into misdirected retaliation and despondency, Edward. And you will stop or I will bear you down."

Ed gritted his teeth, "You don't have any idea what I've been through."

Izumi dragged in breath, "Maybe not, but that gives you no justifiable vindication for murder." She softened and kneeled, "Just talk to me, Edward." Ed took this moment of vulnerability to wrap his leg around her shoulder, the side of his foot thrust against the side of her neck, knocking her off of him. He used his right arm to break out of the hardened earth and swung his body around to clap his hands together. Getting out of the hold, he flipped onto his feet as Izumi began to attack with her bare fists. Edward and she were then committed in a full out mêlée between visceral strength and both parties were precise with their kicks and punches and body positions. _Damn, I trained him too well_. The battle raged on half an hour before the pair had to rest from tiring themselves out. Then something got through to Ed enough to keep him from attacking momentarily.

Izumi expelled blood from her mouth.

Ed was reminded of their parallel mistakes that brought them to where they had been and where they were now. When the bloody gag ceased, Izumi clapped her hands together and took hold of a serrated spear while Ed transmuted his automail into its signature wide dagger. Izumi and Ed's battle kindled yet again, very narrowly dodging solid cuts from the other's weapon.

Ed blocked a stab from Izumi's spear as he deduced, "You don't give a fuck about me! You think I'm a monster now!" His eyes narrowed. Izumi grasped instantly he was trying not to cry, "All you care about is crucifying me and saving a bunch of people you don't know that want you dead! You designate that your bed, now fucking lie in it." He sprang forward at the housewife again. Izumi blocked the stab of his pointed automail with a wall of dregs. She transmuted stepping stones over the wall and pushed off a piece of rubble and threw her spear. Luckily, Ed dodged and Izumi landed opposite him.

Izumi felt her lungs constrict acutely and harshly, "You're not a monster, you're confused and you're drunk on sadness. I could never think of you as a monster." Ed's lips downturn and his eyes narrowed again. Izumi flipped and picked up the spear again, "But I will punish you for doing wrong, just as I would punish a son." Ed looked away from her but she persisted, "You are loved, Ed, and the ones that love you have always known you to be incorruptible and self-sacrificing. Why are you letting them down now? After all you've been through, why now?"

"How can anybody love me now that I'm a filthy cutthroat?"

Izumi, "Ed-" Ed knocked Izumi to the ground and jumped back, transmuting his automail back to normal. Then he clapped his hands and stones popped from the ground, hitting the spear from Izumi's hand. He clapped his hands together again in order to manipulate thermite and metal oxide, producing an aluminothermic reaction. It created a series of short bursts of extremely high temperature bombs. The thermite reaction diverted Izumi from regrouping by its use of distraction. Ed clapped yet another time and donned his own spear analogous to the one Izumi had once held, "Ed, I can love you because a mother loves her child even when they least deserve to be loved."

A couple tears fell down his cheeks, "You're not my mother."

Ed launched to attack stab the weakened housewife when Winry dove from the side and tackled Izumi out of the way. "Winry," Ed glowered, "Move. Now."

She acted like the intimidation didn't affect her, "Ed, you bastard!" A lurid lament came from her as it felt like an icepick nailed on her shoulder and neck. Winry turned and helped Izumi up. Turning to Ed, Winry demanded, "How can you say that to her? Say! I know she's not Trisha, but-"

Ed lifted his spear and growled like a demon, "Sorry I'm not the flawless little figment you had in your head, Winry."

Winry started walking towards Ed, "Don't fucking leave me again. You did that once, don't put me through that again." She reached out for him but he slapped her hand away with the body of his spear. It caused more pain in her soul than it did in her hand, "Ed-"

"Get the hell away from me!"

"Ed, listen to me-"

"I will never be able to revert to who I was before I left! So if you can't handle that, leave me the fuck alone, you goddamn bitch! You act like you have the right to punish me; do what you want to anyone who defies you! Kill off the inferior, put them through your fucked up grind! I won't fucking take it! You won't put _me_ in a cell!"

Izumi sprang forward when she realized Ed was about to pierce his spear through Winry. By luck of the draw, Al shot out of nowhere and grabbed Ed's elbow, spinning him around. They continued to dance in that motion until Al pressed Ed up against a brick wall of a building lining the alleyway, "What are you doing? What the fuck are you doing? That's Winry and Izumi, Ed! What are you doing?"

"Get the fuck off of me, Alphonse!" Ed growled treacherously.

"No! How can you do this Ed? You just nearly stabbed Winry!" Al couldn't stand those words had to be spoken.

"I don't care about that bitch!" Ed paid no mind that Winry burst into waterworks as Izumi cradled Winry's cranium with her palm.

"Yes, you do! Wake up, dammit, wake up! This isn't Germany! They aren't Nazis! They aren't trying to hurt you, Ed, they're your family!" Al argued in an increasingly fuming voice.

"No, they aren't!" Ed refuted.

"They're my family and if they're my family, they're your family; unless you don't consider me your brother anymore!" Al challenged irately.

Ed dropped his spear, replacing his hold with Al's arm, "Of course you're my brother."

"Then stop. Just stop. Everyone here needs you, Ed, as much as you need them," Al reasoned with his older brother.

Ed disregarded this truth, snapping into reality, and looked down, "No, nobody needs me. I'm defiled-"

"Yes, I do!" Winry's voice broke, taking her voice back to the hoarse tone of her first awakening after the rape, "And even if I didn't, our son needs you. Our son needs his father." When a defeated expression adorned Ed's face and he rushed to Winry's side to embrace her.

However, out of habit, Winry's livid responsive action was to strike the side of Ed's face. Ed turned away from her.

Al begged deafeningly, "Winry, don't do that!" Ed turned away from Winry and sunk to the clammy ground. Al kneeled on the ground next to Ed, "Hey, come back to me. Hey, Ed, breathe. Relax and inhale. It's just Winry, you're not in Dachau."

Winry became vexed and remorseful as she came back to her senses, "I'm sorry." Following Al's example, Winry heavily fell to her knees beside of Ed with bolts of agony stemming through her entire body, "Ed, I'm sorry. I would never hurt you."

Winry put her hand on Ed's shoulder. It was a hideous choice. Ed reacted by pushing Winry, scrapes attracting to her skin rapidly on the pavement, and he clapped his hands then touched them to the ground as he cried out, "Rot in hell, you Nazi bitch!"

Another thermite reaction sprang forward and once the reaction started, the temperatures soared to 2,500 Celsius, enough to melt many metals. The thermite reaction Ed created had its own supply of oxygen and did not require any external source of air. Consequently, it could not be smothered and instantly ignited, given its sufficient initial heat. It instantly burned well despite the damp ground. The thermite ignited under the water droplets sparsely falling from the sky, the molten iron extracted oxygen from the rain and generated hydrogen gas in a single-replacement reaction. In his transmutation, Ed added in some potassium, which oxidized rapidly in the air, accessing hydrogen with heat during reaction.

In short, Ed created massive explosions.

The luck kept running that day as masses of flames flared up and managed to counter the explosion. Roy's counteractive flames barely kept the explosion that could have destroyed the total city of Central. The incendiary bombs were so intense, it was obvious that Ed's transmutations were products of aluminum oxide and free elemental iron and heat.

Ed was on his feet without notice. Incendiary bomb after another were coming from the blonde and his blind wrath was insatiable as Roy continued to use his flame alchemy to neutralize Ed's attacks. Al was given the task of keeping Winry and Izumi safe from the insistent bombs. Al nearly used a similar transmutation as he used in the desert and tried to extinguish the bombs with water, hydrogen and oxygen, however, thought against it. Instead he shielded Winry behind him from a gush of heat from all the flames flaring up around them. "Al!" Winry screamed in panic, thinking the younger Elric was hurt.

"I'm ok, Winry," Al guaranteed. "I can't transmute water to pour onto his reactions. They're burning thermite and water will cause a steam explosion."

"A what?" Izumi inquired from behind a slab of collapsed wall.

"It will send boiling water and steam and fire everywhere, particularly with alchemical enhancement. The explosion would be wild," Al elaborated.

Ed was a good fifty feet away from his brother, surrogate mother, and lover but he was still throwing incendiary bombs astray with terror. He relentlessly extracted magnesium from the earth's crust for detonation since it could reach temperatures high enough to ignite thermite. The blustery, drizzling night was a perfect condition for Ed's mayhem. Roy soon quit using his flame alchemy to counter Ed's bombs when he realized that Ed was too making fire and they were merely starting a titanic bonfire.

Roy's transmutations ceased and he darted to Al, Winry, and Izumi. As Roy began helping each friend up, Ed's actions died as he fell to his knees with his face in his hands. The young alchemist then doubled over, the top of his forehead nestling in the dirt as his mintage locks curtained around him. "Al," Roy breathlessly demanded, "Where did Ed learn to make fire?"

"I don't know!" Al frantically sued. Once Ed's emotive fuel ran out, the brunette bounded the distance to his now collapsed brother, "Ed, we have to stop the thermite reactions!"

Ed toppled to the side and he rolled onto his back. It took much more goading from Al to get Ed to at last dazedly reply, "Cooling the carbon dioxide around the reaction. It will cut off the supply to the heat."

Izumi appeared next to Al, "Ed, Al and I have no idea how to go about doing that so it will efficiently work!"

Ed didn't say anything or move, still dazed from his episode. Al had to convince him, "Ed, we have to put this out! It's going to end up killing people. You don't want that. You're being haunted by enough demons. I don't have a clue how to cool the air enough to stop that reaction. It's probably burning over 2,000 degrees Celsius; I'd have to sit down for a while and come up with equations, and we don't have that kind of time." Al was still not holding a candle to Ed's alchemy, "Ed! You're the only one here that has the full understanding of this! We're not all astute, quick on the trigger academicians that constantly break new grounds like you! You're the only one capable of stopping this! I can't sit down and do equations for three or four hours!" Ed sat dazed, "Ed!"

Ed snapped, "If you wait a fucking minute, I'm trying to think!" Al quieted as Winry, Izumi, and Roy moved closer, "Dry ice."

Al questioned, "Dry ice?"

"I read about it in Switzerland. It's only a solid, but I theorize I can make a bomb of sorts with it." Al, Izumi, and Roy's eyes expanded. "But there's three problems, one that can be easily remedied, the others…not so much."

Izumi pushed, "What is it?"

"We'd have to make a container around a third of Central, the parts that have already ignited. You, Al, and I can make the walls and the ceiling; that's the easily solved problem. But we'd have to get everybody out of the buildings within that area because there's a possibility of all of them getting killed, because too many violent reactions will be going on at once."

Ed quieted for a moment, the other alchemists not fully understanding, "Then, as far as the dry ice bomb…to make the reaction large enough to extinguish the thermite will take a lot of ingredients… "

Ed closed his eyes, his words perplexing and astounding Izumi, Al, and Roy, "To make the dry ice, I'll have to separate ammonia out of nitrogen and combine it with methane; then I'll need to transmute enough water to fill the entire container at least three feet high. At the very least. We'll need to make the walls are extremely high and thick because when the water hits the thermite flames, there will be a steam explosion." Ed mindlessly waves his hands, eyes still closed, "It will spray boiling water and the medium of the reaction, in this case fire, and it could kill whoever it hits. And, like you said, there's the steam, and that will be scorching." Ed covered his eyes with his hand, "In reality, the water will either steam or exacerbate it, in which either case will require the dry ice bomb. So when the dry ice hits the thermite flames, it will increase the amount and temperature of gas incredibly then the density will rupture it because of the limited space. But then the fires will have lost a massive source of carbon dioxide and the bit it has will be too cool to fuel the fires because the dry ice is approximately negative eighty degrees."

Everyone's eyes widened, never have heard of such, "The surface area will be eradicated then, right?" Al inquires.

Ed looked at him, "Most likely. Shock waves could probably shatter everything. The explosions will at least damage everything severely." Ed laughed despondently, "Not that I haven't already done that."

"Ed-"

"Get everyone away from the fires, then," Ed looked at Izumi and Al, "put the ceilings and walls up. I'll be on the other side of a wall to duplicate and set off the reactions."

"What?" Al yelled, "No! You're not going on the inside of the wall!"

"Somebody has to, Al. We can't combine ammonia and methane then shove it through the wall. That's impossible. I started this, I'll finish it."

"No!"

Ed stood up over Al, "I wasn't giving you any room to object, Al! I'm going in the container, so you better get used to the idea!"

"I won't let you do it! I'll go in!"

"I said I'm going in! Besides, you said it yourself! _ I'm_ the only one that can do this properly!"

"You just said if people were inside, even if they're in the buildings, they would probably die! And I-"

"And you what, Alphonse? Let Central burn to the ground, maybe kill everyone? They'll die, Al. Everyone here will die if I don't correct my wrong. If not from the flames and heat, then the gases emitted. I'm fixing this; this is my doing."

"Brother-"

"That's my life, Alphonse! You of all people should know this is my life! I always have and always will fuck everything up then have to turn my stupid ass around and fix it! Now go make the goddamn wall!" Ed turned and ran into the misting night.

_1:02 AM, May 29, 1943, Central, Amestris_

"Ed!"

Winry ran to the collapsed alchemist with a grueling pain in her wounds. An explosion as loud as a congregation of cannons had sounded, prompting Al to transmute a gateway into the dome he and Izumi had created. Winry had followed Al despite Roy warning her not to. She had to get to Ed. When she caught sight of his stagnant body, she frantically charged like a racehorse to him. He sported a cut the size of half of a V-42 Stiletto dagger's blade on his forehead and to the center of his temple. Blood seeped from the wound while Winry immediately determined that he was unconscious. She gasped and tried to rip the deep blue cotton of her dress's full skirt but her feeble right arm offered no effort to her left. Realizing the breezy dress wasn't going to rip, Winry used her bare hands to pressure the trickling, crimson wound on Ed's forehead and temple. She soothed, "It'll be alright, baby, just hold on." Winry turned her head towards Al, who had wandered in the opposite direction to look for Ed, and shouted as loud as her pale voice would allow, "Al! Help!" Winry turned back to Ed when she saw Al had heard her and headed in their direction. "Oh, God," Winry made eye contact with Al as he stooped beside Ed.

Al instructed, "Move your hands, Winry. I'm going to heal this."

"Alkahestry?" Winry questioned.

"Yeah," Al confirmed. The younger Elric clapped his hands together and touched them to his brother's bleeding noggin. As the blue-white glow came and died, so did the gash. The blood still remained but that was nothing Winry or Al was too worried about. "Alright, let's get him home."

Al drew Ed's limp flesh arm into his hand and wrapped it around his neck as Winry prodded with rhinestone tears edging down her rouged cheeks, "I thought you said The Truth and The Gate didn't want to take anything else from you two. But this war-"

"Winry," Al soothed as he hauled Ed up and wrapped his arm around his older brother's waist, "Ed and I have learned to deal with the bullshit cards we're dealt. Let's just get somewhere safe right now; we'll talk later."

On their way out, everybody had met up at the gateway Al had transmuted. Izumi tried to help drag Ed along but her height didn't synchronize with Al's, forcing Al to demand he transport his sibling by himself. Winry couldn't help but check Ed's head every few minutes on their way back to the Armstrong mansion in fear that it would miraculously split open again. By the time they reached the mansion, Winry had worried herself to the bone while Al had worn himself out lugging his lanky brother around.

Unfortunately, Al had a more tiresome task he would have to complete before the night was over.

Armstrong frolicked to the rescue when Winry swung the door open. The colossal man took possession of Ed and hauled him up the stairs in one arm to the guest room, Winry hopping up the steps behind him. Al slumped against the wall and his back slipped down the oil-based, cream wall beside the lofty fir bookshelf settled between the picture window and fireplace. Luminista strode to Al's side and used the edge of the bookshelf to lower herself beside him. He was breathing speedily and perspiration plagued his face. Luminista stretched out the chili paisley, silk shirt Winry had given her to wear to wipe Al's forehead, "Are you ok?"

"Ed's heavier than I remember," Al commented.

"Come lay down," Luminista bargained.

Without another word, Luminista stood, offering her hands to pull Al up afterwards then a shrill voice shot through the night, "Alphonse? I can't believe it's you! I've missed you! You look completely different!"

Al quaffed, "Mei."

_Almost a year later, April 27, 1944, Rush Valley, Amestris_

"I can't go there that night. I won't be in the mood," Ed continued unpacking Winry's automail into their freshly painted bedroom in their three-bedroom house. It took months until Ed thought he was stable enough to move into a house he would share with Winry and their son. When he got to the mark of being able to have extended contact with Winry and Emile and when his triggers became easier to suppress, Ed demanded to Winry that they move into a house together; as a family. He met no resistance from his love or son.

Winry strung out her sigh for exaggeration, "Ed…"

"Winry, I'm still not used to being around so many people at once," Ed elaborated as he ceased his motions to whole-headedly stare at his sweetheart.

"Come on, Ed, Roman and Emile are best friends. We have two days to get to Riza's house for his birthday party. That'll leave us plenty of time to get you drunk enough that you don't know where you are," Winry smiled, trying to persuade Ed to accompany her and Emile to Central.

Ed squinted his eyes, "Doesn't that defeat the whole purpose of me going?"

"Fuck, Ed, I just want you around, ok?" Winry pouted.

"Winry, you haven't left my side since I've come back to Amestris," Ed implored with a concealed smirk.

Winry widened her eyes and stuck out her bottom lip, "Please."

Ed groaned and momentarily put his head in his automail hand. Returning his eyes to Winry's, Ed grumbled, "Ok, but if I go ape shit, I don't wanna hear it, Mama Bear."

"Quit mocking our son," Winry scolded the blonde who took to his feet.

"I'm not," Ed plopped down on the Carlisle, wide-planked floorboards beside their queen-sized bed and deposited the weight of his head on the outside of Winry's right thigh. He felt her fingertips and nails directly magnetize to and caress his scalp. "I'm mocking your ferocious overprotectiveness of him."

"Oh, please, you won't even let him play tag with Roman, _Papa Bear_," Winry derided. She furthered her taunting as she dropped her voice a couple octaves to mimic him, "_Emile, stop running so fast, you're gonna fall and break your occipital bone_! As if he knows what that is!"

"Alright, I'm considering it," Ed gave in with a light-hearted smile as he raised his head from Winry's knee to focus his gilded eyes with her iridescent ones.

Winry fell to the hardwood floor Ed resided on and flung here arms around his neck, burrowing her nose into the bend of his neck, "Thanks, Edward o' mine."

"Ma chère, tout ce que vous voulez. Anything you want," Ed tucked his arms around Winry's petite waist. Ed spontaneously whipped to the side, cradling the back of Winry's skull in his flesh hand as he flippantly propelled Winry's backside onto the floorboard and trolled over top of her. "Winry…"

After Ed didn't finish his statement, Winry instigated, "What?"

"To understand and to be understood makes my earth turn," Ed traced the profile of Winry's nose with his index finger. "Is your shoulder in pain?"

"I could ask you the same question," Winry lifted her hand and tapped his automail bicep, "I heard you tell Al over the phone that your shoulder and leg's still in pain."

Ed pointed his eyes good-humoredly, "Eavesdropping, eh?"

"If your limbs are hurting ten and a half months after I replace your ports, there's a problem," Winry droned.

"I'm just having difficulties getting used to them," Ed particularized. "I think the horrible condition my former ports were in just damaged my nerves."

"Most likely," Winry frowned, "considering how deeply they dug into your flesh. I don't know how you were walking around and heavy-lifting with those." Winry traced the discolored scar orbiting Ed's left wrist, "Or that it didn't malfunction when they hung you from that hook with your wrists bound behind your back."

"Winry-"

"Sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. Talking comes by nature, silence by wisdom, right?" Winry gave it her all to smile but the upturn of her lips speedily faltered.

Ed pushed Winry's blonde hair behind her ear in comfort, "Let's try and look for the good, not the evil, from now on, chère. Let's focus on being together and raising Emile and being thankful Amestris is war-free."

Winry digressed, "You're right." She drew Ed's lips to hers and he gave her a peck. "I don't know what we would have done if Xing's army didn't come in and assist. Ling really saved our asses."

"Yeah, he did. But if Mei didn't make that monthly check up with Headquarters, Ling wouldn't have a clue any war was happening," Ed recalled.

"It's coincidental she came in so close to the day you, Al, and Luminista came through the portal. I'm surprised Falman mentioned Al and you to her," Winry stretched with a yawn beneath Ed.

"I'm not. People seem to ignore the fact that that geezer doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut," Ed criticized.

"Ed, Mei pined over Al the whole time he was gone. She'd come every month checking to see if we ever heard from him. She deserved to know he was home," Winry reasoned.

"Yeah, maybe later, but Al had too much on his plate to be dealing with her at the time she showed up that first time. And the way she reacted to Luminista made it all the worse," Ed argued.

Winry concurred, "Ok, maybe the obscenity-riddled screaming could have been done without, but look at it from Mei's perspective. If you were to come back and I was avidly in love with someone else, what would you have done?"

Winry was borderline between expecting and not expecting Ed's blunt answer, "I'd want you to be happy and I wouldn't dare interfere. I'd probably just kill myself…again."

Winry couldn't resist her course of action as she inhospitably smacked Ed's arm, "Don't say that."

Ed deadpanned and intertwined his fingers with the hand Winry smacked him with. Ed learned over the ten months he had been home to once again tolerate Winry's violent tendencies but he still could not tolerate when liquid sunshine pooled in her eyes. He tried to make the tears trickling down her face cease, "Winry, I shouldn't have said that."

"You know, when you're given hard bread, it's only because you have sharp teeth," Winry's arm wrapped around Ed's neck to pull him completely down to her as she snuggled her cheek against his. "You never forget that you are strong and the only reason you've been chosen to endure what you have is because the fates knew it would make you into my Cupid."

The muscles in Ed's cheek shifted, indicating to Winry he smiled, "Luminista never stops with those stories, does she?"

"I love you, Ed."

"I love you, too."

"Enough to go to Roman's birthday party?" Winry teased.

"Yeah, ok, I'll go," Ed confirmed as he propped himself up and gave Winry another light peck. Winry wouldn't let him off easily that time around as she dragged his lips to hers again. Before long Winry pressured Ed's mouth open as one of her legs encircled his waist in order to squeeze as much contact out of the kiss as she could. The muscles of their mouths battled each other as Ed's free hand secured Winry's thigh against his hip. A mild break approached as Ed broke away and mumbled, "Pinako will be in with Emile any moment." Winry disregarded Ed's comment as she connected her swollen lips to his once more. But Ed had to stop the heated lip-lock when he felt Winry's hips mash against his, "Seriously, ma chère, this isn't right."

"What?" Winry took on a mortally offended tone.

Despite her blatant mindset, Ed grinned, "You're so funny, Winry. I just meant that the first time I made love to you was too fast and I think we should have more than five minutes before our son comes home for the second time."

"I'm sorry, are you trying to plan a specific time for us to have sex?"

"Isn't that the romantic thing to do?" Ed ensued sarcastically. Winry shook her head to try and repress her laugh. Then Ed offered an actual answer, "No, I'm not planning a time, I just don't think right now is ideal."

Suddenly, the mirth vanished from Winry's expression as a terrible thought washed over her. And it slipped out, "You're going to be gentle with me, aren't you?"

Ed's eyes marbled as he whispered, "Of course I will be, Win. I love you and I would rather die than hurt you, especially in that sense."

"I'm sorry…I don't know why I asked that. I-"

Ed merely settled his cheek against Winry's collar bone, nose burying in her sternum, "No need to explain; I understand. I know how you feel, chère. But I'll use your own words against you and remind you that a gem cannot be polished without friction, nor a person perfected without adversity."

"As long as you know I'm perfect," Winry poked fun at Ed's serious tone.

"Oh, I know a little," Ed laughed.

_April 29, 1944, Central, Amestris_

"Ed, Al! Stop smacking each other in the head! You're going to be stupider than usual!" Winry commanded, looking on at the Elric brothers. Al had only recently discovered Ed's re-found ability to horse around without having freak outs. Peering at Winry they smacked the back of each other's heads at the same time for good measure. Izumi wore the widest smile, still not over the elation at the return of the siblings or that their normal behavior had started showing up again.

Before Al or Ed could respond to Winry's insult, Riza exclaimed from the couch, "What's wrong with you, Havoc? I can't cash this check for one, for two, you're sick!"

Winry pried, "What did he do?"

Riza met Winry's shining eyes, "He just wrote me a check because he didn't know what to get Roman and he wrote 'For Sexual Favors' in the memo field. That's sick, Jean!"

"God, you really don't know how to take a joke, Riza…" Jean beamed as he tucked a cigarette behind his ear.

"You know, this is why you will never get married," Rebecca proclaimed as she fed Hayate a treat. Jean merely chuckled at Rebecca and shrugged, prompting her to respond, "What?"

"It just reminds me of my mother," Jean chortled yet again.

"How?" Rebecca's eyes narrowed in thought as she spoke over her shoulder at Jean.

"Every time we'd go to a wedding she'd be poking me and telling me that I was next."

Breda replied with a mouthful of food, garnering a look of disgust from Rebecca, as he questioned, "That's not funny; why'd you laugh?"

Jean tiptoed behind Rebecca and plucked her up, causing her to squeak, with his arms around his waist, "Well, it made me think of my response. I hated when she said it so I began exacting revenge by waiting until we were at funerals and I'd poke her and say she was next. She stopped bothering me about it after a few times."

Jean's response set off a ring of snickers from the group gathered in Riza's apartment. The whole Central, Dublith, and Resembool gang was present for Roman's birthday party, except for one. Roy Mustang. Nobody had heard from him and most of them suspected Roy and Riza had another fight. Even after Riza and Winry's assault, Roy and Riza had not been getting along; but not for lack of effort. However, all the effort to rebuild their friendship came from Roy's side. It seemed that not only was Riza not offering the same amount of work as Roy to end their odds, but she seemed to be hindering it. She didn't even invite him to Roman's birthday party despite having invited everyone else, even Brosh. And Riza knew Jean accidentally mentioned the party to Roy, not knowing Riza could hear him tell Breda and Fuery about the slip up. So Roy knew the party was swinging, he just didn't show. And Riza realized how upset it honestly made her.

Winry caught up with Riza as the older blonde rushed out the door an hour after Jean's check incident and a few minutes after a mysterious phone call. The search for Riza took Winry all the way to Riza's car in front of the apartment complex. Riza sat cross-legged on the hood of her ebony automobile with her chin resting on her closed fist. Winry barely spoke Riza's name when she heard 'Winry' being called into the night. Turning around, at the front door of the complex, Winry caught Ed's glimmering gold eyes, "What is it, Ed?"

"I don't want you two out here alone," Ed explained loud enough for only the twenty foot gap between them to be filled.

Winry felt security in her heart and soul, "Thanks, Ed."

"Alright, I'll stand back here," Ed indicated with his hands the space in front of the apartment complex doors.

Thankful for the privacy, Winry simply nodded and made her way next to Riza on the hood of the car, "What happened?"

"It must be wonderful to have Ed back," Riza sniffled, wiping away a couple tears as she turned away from Winry.

Winry played along, "I haven't had a single nightmare since he's been back. No nightmares, and now that I have him back, I love all the things that made me sick to my stomach before again, like sand and the color red." Winry whispered, "And I don't feel like a horrible mother anymore."  
"Any triggers?" Riza investigated.

"Not in four weeks and two days. It's a record," Winry tried to smile but the eerie aura surrounding Riza wouldn't allow for it. When Riza said nothing in response, Winry tried to pull a reaction even though it was like pulling teeth, "Ed asked me to marry him…"

"When?" Riza donned an astonished face.

Winry giggled with a sheepish smile, "…in his sleep." Riza rolled her eyes, instigating Winry to grin, "Alas, the question has eluded him when he's conscious. I think he's worried."

"About…?" Riza sniffled.

Winry tilted her head away from Ed so there wasn't even a smidgeon of possibility he could read her lips, even though it was nighttime, and alleged, "He feels like his father."

"How?" Riza raised her brows.

"Inconsistent as a father and fears to be inconsistent as a husband," Winry expanded with a shake of her head.

"You aren't worried about that, are you?" Riza cleared her throat.

"No, absolutely not. He's only inconsistent as a father because he was trapped in another dimension and didn't know he had a son. And even if I was concerned he'd be inconsistent as a husband, he should know I'd be just like Trisha and I would wait on him," Winry confirmed Riza's belief but instantaneously switched gears. "But enough beating around the bush; what's wrong?"

"Winry…" Riza didn't know where to start, "I want Roman's father here."

"Riza…don't do this…" Winry pleaded.

"I lied, Winry. Taro didn't leave me, I left him."

Winry assumed an expression as lost as sin, "Why?"

"Because Taro…wasn't…"

"Roy?" Winry was met by silence. Knowing better than to expect an answer, Winry pushed, "Why isn't he here?"  
"I can't stand looking at his face."

"Why?"

"Watch Roman for me."

"What?"

"I'm going to Roy's house. He was drunk."

Winry's stomach dropped, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I am sure," Riza flipped her pale hair over her shoulder. "I'm gonna go check on him."

"Not without someone going with you."

"I'm a big girl, Winry. I've got my guns this time and I can take care of myself."

Winry hesitated, "…ok."

"I'll be back later," Riza assured as she slid off the hood of the car. Winry hooked her arm with Riza's as the older woman trekked past her.

Stopping Riza dead in her tracks, Winry wrapped her free arm around Riza's neck and murmured, "It'll be ok. Call me if you need anything."

Riza offered a rapid nod as Winry unhooked their arms and released her. Winry shoved off of the hood of Riza's car and gestured goodbye through the driver's window as Riza revved the engine to life. Ed sauntered to Winry's side and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, "What's up?"

"He got drunk when he realized he wasn't invited to Roman's party even though everyone else was. He called her; that's who was on the phone," Winry elucidated.

Ed pressed his lips to Winry's temple for a chaste kiss. His lips lingered on her face as she heard him mutter, "You want to follow her, don't you?"

"Let me get my keys."


	14. A Dying Shame

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do not own the manga/anime characters, plots, or creation.

**Bless My Body, Bless My Soul**

**By TheKennethAnger**

Chapter 14: A Dying Shame

**Interfice errorem, diligere errantem**** - ****Kill the sin, love the sinner. (St. Augustine)**

_April 29, 1944, Riza's Apartment, Central, Amestris_

"Yeah, so we were shooting at what were probably Aerugan soldiers and they nicked Olivier's arm and she just kept shooting," Jean laughed as he told the throng of party-goers about the war that was waged almost a year earlier. "And one of the soldiers screamed, 'why won't you die?', and Olivier just goes, 'Heaven won't take me and hell's afraid I'll take over.'"

A circlet of laughter flowed from the group's mouths when Roman tugged on his proxy uncle's pant leg and pouted, "Where's Mama?"

The recognition of Riza's absence came to the forefront and Jean investigated, "Hey, yeah, where's Mama Riza?"

Luminista piped up, "I haven't seen Ed or Winry in a while either…"

Al spoke up, "I have a bad feeling."

_5:44 PM, Roy's House_

"Listen to them!" Winry scream-whispered at Ed as they faced each other, ears pressed against Roy's front door. Riza and Roy had started a yelling fight as soon as Riza slammed the door closed. The star-crossed couple must have been upstairs or in the back of the house because neither Ed nor Winry could hear anything that was actually intelligible. "God, I wanna know what is _going on_!"

"Win, let's leave, we shouldn't be here," Ed rationalized with his live-in sweetheart. "If this was us, we wouldn't want them to be spying on us."

"Ed-"

Before Winry could muster up a lush sentence, the glass of an upstairs window ruptured and a deafening crack thundered into Ed and Winry's eardrums. There was no indication to the reason the window broke or what was used to make it blow to kingdom come, but Ed reacted, immediately assuming harm had come to one of the two inhabitants of the house. Ed's hand clamped together and he transmuted the doorknob into copper dust. Eliminating the lock, Ed slapped the door open, Winry breezing past him at terminal velocity. Ed didn't have to exert much effort to keep up with the mother of his child as they bounded up the stairs. What they came upon was a sight to behold; one they thought they wouldn't see twice in their same lifetimes. Riza's hand was fisted in Roy's cobalt, textured knit shirt, obviously having popped off one of the buttons on the shirt's snap plackets during her blind rage, and her cocked revolver grazed his bruised cheekbone. He kneeled on one knee and she was bent over at a near ninety degree angle in order to firmly shackle Roy in her grasp. Winry spoke up after she swore she heard Riza growl, "Riza! What are you doing?"

Riza's head snapped like Winry and Ed were the magnets to her nickeled eyes, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Ed froze. _Gun_. There was a gun; and it was pointed at someone. Ed froze and could only stare at the gun. Ed's voice employed an offbeat tone, catching Winry's attention immediately, as he murmured incomprehensible words. Winry quickly uttered, "Riza, put your gun away."

Roy chose this point to slur, "She w'nts me tuh keep my lips se'led but it's time this sh_it_ gets out there."

Riza ignored Winry's instruction and jerked Roy's shirt, lurching him forward, "I'll be sweeping the fragments of your skull off the bed if you don't shut your fucking mouth, Mustang!"

Winry regretted coming. Ed's alluring eyes were concentrated on the superb metal of the revolver as the words echoed in his head, _Hit that bitch harder or I'll blow your goddamn brains out_! Winry muttered, "Ed?" Ed was drawn into a somnolence and became incapable of answering Winry, prompting her to go into defensive mode. She ever so gently slid her fingers up Ed's cheek and moved to stand stock still in front of him, disrupting Ed's view of the firearm. Roy defamed Riza as Winry tried to bring Ed's mind back to substantiality. Ed's height allowed for the alchemist to see the top of Riza's head until Winry stood on her tiptoes. His eyes were hollow as she wrapped an arm around his neck, bending him down like a willow to make direct eye contact.

Winry said nothing, mostly because Roy began boldly daring Riza, "Go 'head, ya been itchin' for it. You got what ya wanted, you'll never wan' it ag'in."

Riza's lip quivered as he reiterated the words she had spoken years ago when she thought he was blacked out.

Her hand faltered a tad, causing the barrel of the revolver to slither down to his jawline. Winry magnetized Ed's profile into the crook of her neck as she multitasked handling him, standing on her tiptoes, and listening to Roy. Since an interruption of Ed's thoughts about the gun had come, his concentration slowly trickled back to the situation at hand. He enfolded his arms around Winry's waist in order to steady her and let her know he was drifting back into the land of the subsisting.

Roy stammered, "What? Chickenin' out now, Hawkeye?"

Riza, infuriated by his daring tactics, drew the gun back then securely bashed the butt into his jaw. He hit the floor as she snarled, "Don't play a daring game with me right now, Mustang."

Between his extremely incapacitated state and the blunt force of the blow to his face, Roy had undoubtedly been knocked out. As his unconscious form splayed over the floor, Riza cursed and pulled the hammer with her thumb, uncocking the gun. She kneeled down and delicately laid it on the floor then trembled in her combat boots as she bridged over the blacked out general to roll him onto his back. His jaw discharged blood from a pocket-sized gash from where Riza had clocked him with the revolver. She internally scolded herself, recalling that the gun had been cocked and with the force she busted Roy with, she was lucky it didn't go off and lodge a bullet in his muddled brain.

"Riza, shit!" Winry exclaimed after she relinquished her grasp on Ed, who had made his way back to sensibility. "Did you just ring him?"

"I-I…" Riza was shocked she had become so advertently hateful towards Roy that she would knock him out without a second thought. "Oh, my God…"

Winry rotated her upper body to speak to Ed when she caught his line of sight lingering on the deserted gun. Winry leapt to the gun, picking it up and she paced hastily to the top of Roy's bed, hiding the metal weapon underneath a plush pillow. Ed began slowly blinking, once again retreating from his sick thoughts to reality. Flames started rising inside of Winry, "Riza, what is going on? You just clocked Roy!"

Riza continued to splutter, "I…I…didn't mean…" Riza's face creased and glass tears escaped her eyes, "Dear, God…what was I thinking?"

Riza slithered her hand underneath Roy's neck and began pulling him up. Ed hopped to the other side of Roy that Riza was on, lifting Roy's arm around his neck, and hove Roy into a vertical position. Ed toted Roy to the bed, laying the older man horizontal on the bed. Realizing Riza was flipping out as she began sobbing, Winry embraced her and began stroking her hair, "Talk to me, what's going on?"

"I don't…Winry, I can't deal all that came with it. I can't take this, I can't do it, I can't do it," Riza entreated.

"With what? Can't take what?" Winry meddled as she felt Ed's fingertips graze her spine in emotional support.

"I don't…know how…to fuckin' say this without just blurting it out. And-and, fuck, I-I had an abortion, Winry."

Winry frantically clasped Riza's shoulders, "What? When? Who's baby-"

"In the beginning of August of last year…and…that guy…"

"The one that raped you?" Winry whispered.

"It was three months after and I went to the doctor because I thought I was having side effects from my wounds or my medications and it turned out I was pregnant."

"Oh, no," Winry lamented.

"I couldn't emotionally handle a baby that belonged to that cunt."

"Riza," Winry wrapped her arms around the elder blonde again, "why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I was fucking embarrassed…and I felt ashamed and wish I hadn't had the abortion because it wasn't…it was just a baby."

Ed interjected, prepared with a logical reasoning, "Riza, sometimes-"

"I killed my own fucking baby," Riza's face fell onto Winry's shoulder as her tears stained Winry's tailored, white poplin shirt.

Once Riza's sobs intensified, Ed felt horrid and wandered behind her and tucked both Riza and Winry's bodies in his arms. Riza took the additional support in stride as she gripped Ed's wrist to keep him still, knowing it was still difficult for him to make contact with people he didn't ordinarily have it with. Winry mumbled, "Is this why you've been pushing Roy away? You feel undeserving?"

"I just feel l-like…" Riza sobbed a couple times before she could continue. "Ro-y is going to… Goddamn! I just can't stand looking at his fucking face. And I didn't want to be around him 'cause I was afraid I'd let i-it slip and I didn't want him to be disgusted."

Winry coerced, "By what?"

"By either the abortion or the fact that I had t-that _bastard's_ baby growing inside of me."

Winry tore back from Riza and scolded, "Riz, that's not fair to Roy. Look at him," Winry pointed behind her at Roy on the bed, unconscious. "Look what's happened! Because you kept pushing Roy away, he drank again. And then you come in here, try and shoot him, and hit him so hard with a gun that you knock him unconscious? That's not going to help clear your conscience, Riza!"

Ed politely whispered, "The purposes of a man's heart are deep waters. You're Mustang's purpose, Riza. Don't let an abortion and a shoddy relationship ruin that."

_April 30, 1944, Roy's House_

"I'm sorry, Roy," Riza begged as she followed Roy up the stairs of his impressive house. "Stop going up the fucking stairs and listen to me! I said I'm sorry, I was wrong!"

"I've had _enough_, Riza. I can't handle you anymore; I can't keep up with you! Look at my fucking face! Just leave me the hell alone! Besides, you should be home with Roman for his birthday, shouldn't' you?" Roy clutched his aching head, feeling more hung over than he had even during his heavy alcohol abuse years before.

"I've been going through…"

Roy was already midway down the hall when Riza reached the top of the stairs. She revolved towards the wall, sat down on the top step, and leaned her head against the drywall. Pulling herself into a fetal position, moans of sobs radiated from her, causing a gut-wrenching condition in Roy's soul. Roy took a step forward then he took a step back then he froze.

He didn't know what to do.

He resigned to his evident will and spun on his heel to tread to Riza. He sat down behind Riza, forming a sideways T shape in accordance with her body position, refraining from touching her no matter how urgently he wanted to. He murmured with a touch of annoyance in his tone, "Going through what?"

Without turning around, Riza bemoaned, "Tell me that you'll never be disgusted by me. Promise me."

Roy stared at the back of her head in confusion. After a few moments, he muttered, "What the hell is this about?"

"Promise me!"

"Just tell me what you have to say, Hawkeye!"

Riza let out a wordless scream at his resistance and decided to blurt out her confession.

"I had an abortion!"

Roy's head spun between the spraining ache he felt in his intestines and the restrained fury, "…An abortion?"

Riza brusquely nodded as the tears were expelled, "When I was raped, I got pregnant."

"Why…didn't…" Roy was at a loss for words.

Riza's voice broke as she conjectured, "Why didn't I keep it? How could I be so horrible? Is that what you are trying to say?"

Roy placed a hand in Riza's hair and his voice fell below a whisper, "No. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Just-just hold me," Riza leaned her head back into Roy's hand as sobs quaked through her body.

Roy dug his hands under Riza's elbows and he pulled her back off the edge of the stair, situating her in his lap. Her continuous sobs prompted Roy wrapped his arms around her and began to rub her back to offer some smidgeon of solace. He hushed her sobs, "Riza, don't cry, please. Shh. I'm sorry I yelled earlier, don't cry." Riza continued to cry as Roy moved his hand from rubbing her back to stroking her hair, "Is this why you've been pushing me away?" Riza only slightly nodded as she twisted her hand into the shoulder of Roy's shirt as she trembled with snuffles. Roy felt a needle of indignation prick his soul, "Why do you feel the need to gut through everything alone, Riza? Whenever you need me, I'm here."

"You're not repulsed are you?" The blonde finally asked after a few minutes.

"No," Roy curtly answered. "No. Don't think that for a minute."

"It's just-"

"I already know what you're thinking, ok? You are my favorite person and nothing will change that. Nothing," Roy assured.

"I didn't invite you to Roman's birthday party because the more I saw you, the more I wanted to tell you what happened. But I didn't want you to know."

"Don't you think secrets between us have caused enough damage?" Roy scolded mildly. "We have to stop with all these puzzles and codes. We may have used to be in tune, been able to cipher each other without having to say anything, but our circumstances have changed. We've changed."

"I just want us to be the way we were. I don't want for us to break down and not be able to understand each other. I don't like what we've changed into."

"Then we need to give an honest try at this. Stop leaving me in the dark."

"Deal. And you have to swear to me right fucking now, you will not go back to drinking. Promise me now," Riza pushed.

"I swear, no more. I fucking swear."

"Then let's start this from the beginning."

_August 4, 1944, Rush Valley, Amestris_

Winry could only stare at Ed's closed eyelids. His breathing was set at an even pace as his chest rose and fell with the functioning of his lungs. His hair was loose and expanded across his left shoulder and his beige pillow, head hanging to the right. Winry grew tired once more in the fumes of the afterglow of their lovemaking as she began tracing the ghastly scars marring Ed's undressed chest, particularly the ones around his automail port.

It had been a year and nearly two months since Ed and Al had rose from the otherworldly grave.

This span also marked the amount of time it took for Ed and Winry to work up to the point of full-on intimacy. Winry had a mountain of intimacy issues to overcome as Ed had to painstakingly hike over his inability to have extended physical contact. As Winry came to find out, Ed was also incredibly insecure about the innumerable scars littering his body. His words were like a broken record in her mind. _I'm cut up like a fucking Black Forest ham. I'm sorry; I know I look grotesque._ Those words impaled her heart like a searing prong. She was near tears at his self-consciousness and self-deprecation. Winry only declared how attractive he was to her and how in love with him she was then connected her lips to his and finished disrobing him.

Winry herself had felt shyness about mutilations she sustained from the assault as he slipped her underwear down her legs and her dress over her head but she kept her mouth shut as to not encourage Ed's doubts about his own scars. However, all uncertainties flew out the window after Ed slid inside of Winry and all they could focus on was each other. Winry grinned at the memory. They were finally able to touch the nirvanas they were looking for in each other as the couple hours ticked by and nothing had ever made Winry more content.

Winry wiggled her au naturel body up the bed in order to elevate, reposition, and lower herself onto Ed's body. His breathing became disrupted and Winry wasn't sure if that meant he had awoken or the extra weight from her body simply caused him to take smaller breaths. She didn't dwell on it as she curled against his chest and cradled her cheek against his pectorals. Winry knew that she had indeed woken him up when she felt his flesh arm encircle her waist and he sighed, "Vous êtes si chaleureux, chère." Ed's automail arm joined his other arm and haloed around her waist as she rubbed circles with her fingertips on his ribs, "Something wrong?"

"Ed, you're stunning," Winry commented without a morsel of sarcasm, "and exceptionally handsome to me."

Ed chuckled as he cupped the side of Winry's turned head, entangling his fingers into her light locks, "Whatever you say, Win."

Winry's fingers ceased their motions against his ribs and she clutched his forearm, "I'm not kidding, Ed. I want you to know how beautiful you are to me. Your scars only make you all the more attractive to me." Ed didn't respond vocally but slipped his hand from her skull to underneath her chin to tilt her head towards him. He bent his neck down as to press his lips against hers to show his appreciation at the compliments she showered him in. Her hand slid onto his automail bicep, her free hand coming to rest flat on his chest, as she compressed her lips against his. His knee scrunched up, acting as a divider between Winry's legs, as he tightened his hold around her waist and hoisted her closer to him and up far enough to straighten his neck out while maintaining their lip lock. Winry's elbows settled against the tops of Ed's shoulders and her forearms lay on either side of his head. Their tongues met in light strokes until Winry pulled away and once again transposed her arms. One of her hands stabilized on his chest, right below his clavicle, as Ed caught her other one and laced their fingers together. Winry nestled her head on the beige pillow case beside his head and nuzzled her mouth and the tip of her nose against Ed's neck, "I guess this is our honeymoon phase coming to a zenith. So you better make love to me again or the phase could burn out."

"Whatever you say, Winry."

_December 25, 1944, Rush Valley, Amestris_

"What's it called again?"

Ed gave her lips a swift peck in adoration of her wrinkled nose, "Christmas. It was a major holiday in the other world. In fact, it was probably the only day that seemed to even the world out; I mean, war would stand still for this holiday. And you buy the people you love gifts so open your gift, Emile."

Emile peered down at the box wrapped in white tissue paper, "What is it?"

Ed laughed and moved Emile and his present closer, dragging his hand to the paper, "I can't tell you, open it."

Emile clawed the paper off and a smile stretched from ear to ear as Emile hugged his present, an alchemy book, to his chest. At first, Winry didn't know whether to make heads or tails of the alchemy starter book. She feared that history would repeat itself and since Al was Emile's age when he started studying alchemy and Ed was only a year older, Winry feared he would become just as daring as Ed and Al. And she didn't want that. If circumstances that Ed and Al suffered fell upon Emile, would he create the same mistake or a similar one?

Expressing these emotions through her eyes alone, Ed assured, "Don't worry, Win. He'll know why human transmutation is taboo." Grasping his automail, Ed continued, "He'll have a few examples why it should never be attempted."

It made Winry's heart beat a little lighter as she clowned, "So, what'd ya get me?"

Ed unabashedly smirked, "Al has a gift for Emile. I'll give you your gift tonight after we take him over there."

Winry shrugged off Ed's innuendo, "Well transmute me something in the meantime. A few things actually."

One of Ed's eyebrows perked up, "What do you have in mind?"

"It's still snowing," Winry motioned towards the window as few inches of two day old snow continued to be piled upon by youthful snowflakes. "And you know how much I love the snow and how seldom it is we get it here…"

Ed laughed, "Win, what do you want already?"

"An ice rink and some ice skates."

"What?" Ed laughed as he hauled Emile onto his shoulders. "You've never been ice skating, you'll break your lumbar vertebrae."

"_Ed_," Winry whined, "I want to go ice skating. I know with the snow it will be a piece of cake for you to transmute ice. _Please_, baby?"

Ed shook his head but complied, "Ok, size seven, right?"

"Right," Winry informed as she skipped to Ed, sliding her fingers up the very bottom of his long sleeved, black polyester shirt, and pulled on the belt loops of his black khakis to bring him to her in order to smear a chaste kiss on his lips when she took to her tiptoes. She quickly released his clothing and circumvented him, with Emile on his shoulders, to bound up the stairs, "Don't forget to transmute a pair for Emile! I'll go get our coats and stuff!"

"Your Mama's trouble, you know that?" Ed snickered as he doubled over, constricting Emile's arms, as he flipped his son from his shoulders and onto the slate laminate flooring.

Emile tittered at Ed's remark as he become stable on their living room floor, "But you_ lo_ve her."

"That I do, Ange Oiseaux," Ed grinned.

"What does that mean?" Emile investigated as he hopped after his father, who stepped outside.

"Ah, ah, ah, you stay in there. Your mother will knock me in the head with a wrench if I let you out here without a coat," Ed instructed his animated son as he shut the back door and became quickly beaten with the blistering cold from every angle. Ed was immediately chilled as he started naming off ingredients as he made his way further up the barren hillside behind their house, "Ok…iron, phosphorus, and chromium from the earth's crust for the blades… I'll need to go get some leather for the boots and linings and twine for the laces. Hope Winry has some or she's tough out of luck."

Ed reached the apex of the hill he was mountaineering and found the plateau eclipsed in regal snowfall. The corners of his mouth turned down. _As the minutes turned into an hour, the weather spasmodically came and went. The snow would be light and merciful one moment, and then Thor would unleash an alp of blustering crystals. The three drudged through the chomping sleet and snowfall in fortitude, each having worsening physical swelling and detriment with every step they took. Ed thought his legs were going to buckle because his foot and ankle were so numb and his automail was congealing with enough ice to cause the metal to crack._

"Ed?" Ed came out of his flashback of the time after the train wreck at the sound of Winry's voice and snow crunching under her feet. His vacant eyes met her azure ones and she straightaway knew something was awry, "What's wrong?" Ed's eyes fell to the alabaster snow and he tilted his head away from Winry, only offering a curt shrug. "Ed, do you need to talk?"

Ed just gave a nod, still not looking at her but knowing the sole way to overcome his anxieties was to talk them out. Ed sighed, causing a thick cloud of smoke to steam from his mouth, "When I escaped the train to Auschwitz, it was snowing." Winry's eyes drooped, disappointed to bring up such trauma to the surface again. But she knew as he continued to speak that he needed to talk, "It's just that it's been so long since I was last around snow." There was a slight pause before Ed continued, "It's just that when I think of snow, I think of everything dying and being buried under the frigidness. My disease is the destroyer of my right mind. My disease is pregnant with violence. I've been destroyed since my cerebral chemicals have evolved into their final stages. My disease is filled with enough blunders to seethe throughout the ages." Another pause, this one longer than the last, loomed as Winry gazed at Ed's chagrined, diverted stare with a grimace. "How can I move an immovable force? Exterminate a ghost? Change my approach?"

Winry entwined her cotton-gloved fingers with Ed's flesh hand, "Luminista was telling me the other day about flowers and folklore the world you were in had about them. One was a forget-me-not. She said the folklore is that God was walking through a garden and talked to the flowers and asked one what its name was. The flower said it forgot so God named it forget-me-not. Ed…don't forget who you are. You're unyielding and loving and a supernatural being and that's why I love you. You have a slew of people that love you. Luminista said forget-me-nots live even under the snow and that it was a symbol of romance and friendship and, Ed, you're my forget-me-not."

A phantom of a smile graced Ed's lips as his ardent eyes met Winry's, "Good to know, chère. I just need you to understand that my self-reproach is split. Sometimes I indulge and sometimes I ignore it and I don't know how to control it yet."

"And I want _you_ to know that you're my sunrise to sunset, you big alchemy freak."

Ed twirled Winry by the hand into his arms and hugged her with both arms, touching his lips to her forehead. After a few moments of embracement, Ed released her and clapped his hands. The bluish shine signified the ignition of a small-scale thermite reaction, of the same origin that nearly burned down Central over a year earlier, to melt the snow. He swiftly clapped his hands again and initiated another reaction, similar to the concept of the dry ice bomb, to freeze the melted snow, generating a solid ice rink on the plateau. Ed fully stood again and looked to Winry, "Do you have leather and twine?"

"Let's see," Winry tapped her temple, "twine is in the bottom drawer beside the kitchen sink and the only leather we have that I can think of is the bindings of your books and your pants. Can you use another ingredient?" Ed stared at her for a moment, instigating Winry to question, "What?"

"Why…" Ed's brows knitted in humor, "do you still have my leather pants? I don't even wear them anymore _and_ I've outgrown them."

Winry's cheeks rouged as she bit her lip, "I have a collection of your old things."

"Why?"

"When you were…" Winry wrung her hands, "…absent, I…was forced out of Granny's house when there was an attack on Resembool by Aerugo. I didn't want to lose every piece of you I had. I still have your old red jacket with Izumi's tattoo on it, too. And some of Al's stuff."

"Why were you in Resembool? Didn't you live here in Rush Valley at that time also?" Ed deduced.

"Yeah, I lived here," Winry felt the snow cooling her heated face, "but I went home for a couple weeks."

"Why are you blushing?"

"I laid in your bed for two weeks."

"Winry…" Ed felt a compression box his heart.

"Anyway," Winry progressed with her line of thinking, "I have three pairs of your leather pants and I'm only willing to forfeit one."

Ed chuckled, "Well, chère, that's plenty."

Winry and Ed hiked back down the hill to retrieve the ingredients for the boots of the ice skates. When they opened the back door to their cozy house, they found Emile stretched out on the living room floor with his new alchemy book open, tracing the curved lines of the transmutation circles. Emile's parents merely smiled at each other then dispersed into different rooms for materials. As Ed rummaged through the drawer that held the twine, an idea exploded in his head. Since he had never seen the small stash of items Winry had collected, he assumed they were hidden away and would take an extra few minutes to recover. He jerked the twine from underneath the hand towels and tossed them on the countertop as he snuck into Emile's bedroom. Winry came out some time later with a pair of Ed's second hand pants to find Ed missing but the twine settled on the counter. Without much time to spare, Ed came back, plucked up the twine, and took the leather pants from Winry, "I'll need to do this outside. The earth's crust has elements that I have to use to make the blades."

"Ok," Winry shadowed Ed to the back door and closed it after him. She instructed her son, "Emile, get up, let's go ice skating. Come put your jacket on."

Ed set the twine and pants onto the ground and banged his hands together. After the lifespan of an arresting glow, the leather morphed shapes and the twine twisted into strings. The necessary elements combined into stainless steel blades and attached to the boots. Ed was somewhat startled when he heard a yell, "Woah! That was zero cool!"

Ed assumed a gleeful grin at Emile's adjectives, "You'll be able to do it in no time, Ange Oiseaux."

"_Daddy_, what does that _mean_?" Emile mildly shook his fists.

Ed overlooked Emile's demand as he grabbed up the skates and laces after Winry made her way to him with his knee-length, black trench coat, his wool scarf, and his leather gloves. He punctually dressed himself for the weather then followed after Winry, who was horsing around with Emile as they ran up the hill, slipping every other step. Ed, Winry, and Emile made their way to the makeshift ice rink in one piece and laced up the boots of the skates, hastily getting to the recreational activity.

Emile's first step onto the ice was a shaky one and his consequent steps persisted in an identical manner. Time ticked by with multiple falls from the family of three, all hitting the ice at one point or another. Eventually, they got the swing of ice skating and, though still generally inelegant, were moving at faster paces and with improved balance. This was the cut off for Ed. He decided to execute his plan when Winry was yelling at Ed to move as she came stumbling across the ice without intention. Winry knocked smack dab right into Ed and the couple gravitated to the ice. Ed landed on his back as Winry thumped on top of him. Despite the air getting knocked out of him, Ed breathlessly cackled. Winry instantly joined in the laughter and elevated herself onto her hands and knees to relieve Ed of her weight so he could catch his breath. Emile then let out a warlike cry and dove in the gap between his parents' bodies with an all-encompassing laughter rising from his lungs as he landed on Ed's torso. This brought out heavier laughter from the adults as Winry shifted all her weight on her knees and sporadically tickled Emile, "Angel Bird, don't tackle Daddy; he's brittle."

Ed and Emile chortled at Winry's declaration as she protracted her hand to assist Ed to sit up. Ed swayed Emile to sit on his lap, concealing his fingers fleetly veering into his pocket. Ed used the same hand that he reached into his pocket with to grip Winry's extended hand to sit up. Winry's eyebrows burrowed when she felt a sharpness against the palm of her hand. Ed's free hand bowled under Winry's upturned hand and rotated their hands until her palm was facing up. Keeping the automail hand he held underneath of Winry's in place, Ed retracted the left hand atop Winry's.

An outstretched silence endured as Winry's mouth fell agape and her eyes became crystal balls, "Ed…" Ed only snorted at Winry's astonished response. Winry's eyes linked with Ed's as a slow smile adorned her face, "A ring?"

Ed let Winry revel for a moment before expecting a response. She marveled over the three near-colorless round diamonds, channel-set in a white gold band. The half carat diamonds mirrored the snowflakes soaring around them. "Ed…did you…"

Ed knew what Winry was thinking as he enlightened, "Yes, I transmuted it so it would be one of a kind. Since diamonds are an allotrope of carbon merely arranged in a diamond lattice by covalent bonding-"

"Ed, don't start your equation babble and ruin this moment," Winry whispered as she felt water pressure building in her eyes.

"Marry me."

Winry slid the ring onto her left ring finger. A perfect fit. Winry tackled Ed as liquid jewels drained from her scintillating orbs and she slung her arms around Ed's neck, squishing Emile between them, and hitched their lips together. Consciously keeping the kiss rated kid friendly because of their son, Winry leveraged herself on Ed's shoulders and laid her forehead against his as she croaked, "It's about damn time."

Ed joked, "You could have asked me."

"Shut up, Edward."

"I'm _mov_ing!" Emile decreed. This lured laughs out of Ed and Winry as Emile crawled off of Ed's lap and falteringly attempted to stand up again on the skates, "If you're gonna be mushy, I'm going to Zumi's!"

Ed teased his son, "You're too young to go alone and you have no money for a train ticket."

Emile stuck his tongue out at Ed, "I'm calling Zumi to come get me."

Ed laughed and addressed Winry, "She spoils him. Especially in comparison to how she treated Al and me."

"You two were older than Emile and she was teaching you alchemy," Winry defended with a chuckle as she stared delightedly at her ring.

Ed wagged his finger at Emile, "You run Izumi ragged, you know that? Besides, you're going to Al and Luminista's apartment for your present, remember? And Al can teach the alchemy book," Ed tapped his automail finger on the ice, "to you just as well as Izumi can."

"Why can't you teach me?" Emile's innocent question sent a jolt through Ed.

Ed frowned, "I can." Ed tried not to get caught up in his paternal blunder, "I didn't mean I didn't want to teach you. When do you want to start?"

"After I go to Al and Angel's so Mama and you can be mushy," Emile smiled with a type of knowing Ed didn't think a child should have. Emile digressed, "L'oncle Al said-"

"Did you just say l'oncle?" Ed interjected with knitted eyebrows.

Winry clarified, "Emile, it's uncle, l'oncle isn't a word."

"No, Win," Ed admired Emile with a grin, "l'oncle is French. It means uncle. Emile, did Al teach you that word?"

"No, I heard you speaking French with l'oncle Al on the phone about Mama's ring and you transmuted-"

"Translated?" Ed corrected as Emile nodded.

"Tr-ans-lat-ed," Eli annunciated, "a few times and you said, 'Pensez-vous Emile seront ravis Winry et je vous mariez, hein, l'oncle Alphonse? Do you think Emile will be excited Winry and I are getting married, huh, Uncle Alphonse?'"

Ed and Winry were flabbergasted, causing Ed to bumble, "You remember the exact pronunciation…you're three…"

Emile beamed, "Zumi said I'm probably a genius like you."

Ed gave a half smile, "Don't let Izumi fill your head with nonsense."

"But you are a genius, Daddy," Emile bragged.

"I also apparently have a big head, so if you don't watch yourself…" Ed teased.

Emile giggled, "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, Ange Oiseaux."

"What _is_ that?"

Ed grinned and didn't translate, "You don't have to go to Al's if you don't want to Emile. Mama and me can be mushy a different day."

"No, I want l'oncle Al's present!" Emile pouted then twirled around to tumble his way off of the ice. The child made his way to his upside down shoes beside the rink, fell to his knees, and dusted the clinging snow off the shoes. He unlaced his skates and shoved his feet into his regular shoes, quickly standing and sprinting down the snow-covered hill, leaving his skates and engaged parents behind with a snicker.

Ed smirked as Winry giggled at Emile's eagerness. Winry's attention came back to her future husband and she coasted on the ice to giftwrap her arms around Ed's neck and her jean-clad legs around Ed's waist as he continued to sit still on the ice. He encircled an arm around her waist and used the other to cup the back of her skull and tilted his forehead against hers. They breathed on each other's lips as the snow picked up. Winry whispered, "You gave me three diamonds; you didn't have to do that, Ed."

"Yeah, I did," Ed argued as Winry began landing kisses on Ed's nose and one of his cheeks. "They're emblematic." Winry leaned her forehead against Ed's again as he progressed, "I meant for them to symbolize our past, present, and future together."

Winry ran her finger across Ed's jaw, "It's beautiful."

After another while of basking in each other's presence, Ed and Winry made their sluggish way back to the house, where they found their son to be waiting by the front door with a packed bag, the alchemy book that used to be Al and Ed's, and a gaping smile.

Ed heard words his father had once spoken to him about Trisha as he scooped Emile up against his chest. _The wise don't expect to find life worth living; they make it that way, Edward._

_8:39 PM, Al and Luminista's Apartment, Central, Amestris_

"You gave him an alchemy book?" Al marveled at his brother.

"Yes, what's wrong with that?" Ed cocked his hip and placed his closed fist against it.

"Nothing," Al smiled, "I just figured you'd be too paranoid to let him have one."

"Well you began reading Hohenheim's tapas books at the same age," Ed reasoned as he poked at Al. "Remember? We didn't actually start performing alchemy until years after first reading about it."

"I meant I figured you'd fear something would happen to you or Winry-"

"If something happens to either one of us, Winry and I both will be able to explain human transmutation is a self-inflicted curse. He has a father, an uncle, and a surrogate grandmother who suffered at the helm of human transmutation and if he doesn't understand the odiousness of it when I begin teaching him alchemy, then I will discontinue his education," Ed assured. Al nodded in understanding as Ed divulged, "I caught him looking at my alchemy books so I already tore out and burned any pages of my alchemy books and the book I gave him that involves human transmutation. I will not allow my son to duplicate the pain you and I have tolerated."

Luminista's laughter seized the Elric brothers' attention as Winry talked vivaciously while staring at her ring. Al commented, "She loves the ring."

"I think she'd love any ring," Ed beamed as he concentrated on his fiancé.

"You're probably right," Al snorted. "She's wanted to marry you since she was fifteen; it's been six years."

Ed peered at Al, sporting a mild state of surprise, "You may be right. She said, 'it's about damn time' when I proposed." Ed nudged Al and derided, "When are you going to ask Luminista?"

Al blushed and pushed Ed's shoulder, "I don't think we're to that point, Brother."

"Whatever you say, Al," Ed harassed.

"Ed…"

Ed directed his attention towards Winry's call and he examined her, "Yeah, Win?"

"You ready to go?"

"Anytime you are."

Winry kneeled in front of Emile for a hug as she instructed, "You better listen to Al and Luminista, ok?"

"I will, Mama," Emile guaranteed as he returned the embrace.

"I love you, Emile," Winry implored.

"Love you, too, Mama." Once Winry unconfined Emile, the blonde boy dashed to Ed for a hug. Ed hoisted Emile up and against his torso as Emile squeezed around Ed's neck, "Love you, Daddy."

"I love you, Ange Oiseaux."

Eli pulled his own hair, "_What _does that _mean?"_

Ed only smiled as he handed Emile over to Al. Winry cuddled into her coat as she handed Ed his and she reminded, "We'll be back tomorrow morning!"

As soon as Ed and Winry shut the door of Al and Luminista's apartment, Winry warped her hands into the front of Ed's shirt, bending him over, as though they were about to fight. However, Ed's misperception was suddenly rectified when Winry's lips fastened on his. Their eyes sealed forcefully as Ed's hands came to relax on Winry's lower back. They heard a door open and broke away from each other. They looked down the hallway of the complex to see a grey-bearded man sitting trash outside his apartment door, as though preparing to take it out. Instead of waiting to find out the man's intentions, Ed took Winry's slender fingers in his hand and escorted her to Rebecca's car. Rebecca, Jean, and Breda met the family of three after work at the train station to give them a ride in the wintery night to Al and Luminista's apartment.

Opening the door to the backseat of Rebecca's car, they found a flustered Breda with his lips squished in a straight line and the other two residents of the car laughing. Rebecca choked through her entertainment, "Don't argue with an idiot like him, Jean. He'll drag you to his level and beat you with experience."

"What's there to disagree with?" Breda huffed. "It was the worst present ever."

Jean facetiously remarked, "Don't worry, Breda will just go home and cry over spilt milk and paint crying clowns."

"Screw both of you," Breda snorted.

Ed and Winry hardly shook their heads in amusement at the triad's banter as they settled in the backseat of the car. Jean and Rebecca resumed picking on Breda the rest of the trip to the train station, drawing out ocean waves of laughter from the two blondes in the automobile. Winry and Ed bade goodbye to the trio once they hopped out of the car then purchased train tickets. The couplet gradually realized how antsy they both were to get home as they underwent the train ride to Rush Valley. Not long after exiting the train and arriving at their car did Ed tug on Winry's wrist, whirling her to face him as his lips found a pressurized compulsion to unite with hers. Winry willingly complied. Winry matched Ed's hunger as she massaged the muscles in Ed's back. It wasn't long before Ed ground his hips into hers and it became excruciatingly evident to Winry that Ed wanted her. She used her hands to push against his chest as she murmured, "Take me home, Ed."

Ed adorned a half-smile as he reached around Winry to open the passenger door. Winry grinned as she jumped into the passenger's seat and Ed banged the door closed. After the engine came alive and Ed shifted gears, Winry caught his hand in hers as he moved it from the gear shift. Ed clutched her hand the entire trip home, making him hate to break the contact so they could exit the car. But his fretting was short lived once they made it inside their house. As soon as Ed locked the door, the couple's clothes were discarded. They celebrated their engagement in the most personal way they knew how.

Once the enraptured moans quit permeating the air, Ed rested his head on Winry's chest as he settled on top of her. Her hands were magnetized to his perspiring head as she pushed his bangs back repeatedly. In due time, their chests stopped heaving as Winry continued to caress his hair. Ed began kneading his thumbs in circles against Winry's ribcages as her motions ceased. He hummed, "Are you sure you want to marry me, Winry?"

"Look at me," Winry coached firmly. Ed hesitated and Winry repeated herself. When he faced her, a look of distress and offense adorned her face. "Ed, you're the only person I want to be with. I _love_ you; I have a _child_ with you. I've wanted to marry you since we were kids… Do you remember when you and Al would fight over who was going to marry me? I always thought, 'I want to marry Ed.'" Ed's eyes simply wilted when Winry kissed his cheek and raked her hands through his bangs again, "You're my valentine and you always have been; you always will be." Winry hesitated then inquired, "What does Ange Oiseaux mean?"

"Angel Bird."

"Aw, so cute, you like what I call him!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, shush up."

Winry laughed loudly and Ed gently shook his head then looked into Winry's eyes. He stared intently until she finally cracked, "What? What do you want?"

Ed grinned, "In a city in France called Paris, you could put a lock on a bridge named the Pont de l'Archevêché that was located between a cathedral named Notre Dame and the left bank a river called the Seine."

Winry's eyebrow rose, "Oh, yeah?"

"So you know the Sempiternal Arch in Kadayr? I was thinking as your last gift for this Christmas, I could take you there and we could put a lock on one of the notches on the natural bridge." When Winry didn't respond for a long while, Ed pushed, "Is that a 'no, I don't like that idea'?"

Winry crammed her fingers into Ed's bangs again and shook her head vehemently, "Opposite! I was just trying to think, what kind of lock?"

"Basically a weather resistant padlock. One with a large shackle," Ed thought aloud.

"Oh, oh! We can decorate the body of the lock!" Winry kicked her feet lightly.

Ed's eyes doubled in size momentarily, "I mean…" After a couple more seconds, Ed grinned, "Yeah, sure, whatever."

Winry mocked Ed's voice, "_Yeah, sure, whatever_. Get excited! What do you want to decorate it like?"

"I don't care," Ed shrugged.

"That's not getting excited at all, you loser!" Winry stretched her right leg out to the side, "What if we painted a red heart on it?" Ed gave a grimace, causing Winry to scoff, "F_ine_, mister macho, why don't you transmute it in the shape of a heart and we carve our names on it?"

"Yeah, we could do that," Ed agreed with a smile that showed his teeth. "Now do we want an anatomical heart?" Winry's lips pinched together and her eyes narrowed at his joke. "That's a no?"

"You're a nerd. An insufferable nerd. You ruin everything," Winry huffed.

Ignoring Winry's declaration, Ed suggested, "Maybe we should head over to Kadayr before we go to get Emile tomorrow."

Before Winry could get any syllables out of her mouth, the telephone rang. Ed sprang off of Winry and scooted a bit to pick up the phone, figuring Al was calling. He answered politely, "Hello?" After a second, Ed turned his head to Winry, "It's Riza. She's crying."

_11:11 PM, Rebecca's House, Central, Amestris_

"Fuck you! Get out of my house!" Rebecca shrieked at the top of her lungs at Jean.

"Rebecca, wait-"

"You made a _promise_ to me, Jean!" Rebecca wailed as she chucked a ceramic plate at him.

He ducked down, narrowly avoiding the flying dish, "Nothing happened!"

"Shame on you for fooling me once; shame on me for being fooled _twice_!" Rebecca threw a salad plate at Jean, who again dodged an airborne item.

"Rebecca, _nothing happened_!" Jean caught the next object, a fork, mid-air and let it fall to the floor.

"I take you back after you _cheated_ on me and your reaction is to cheat again? And with the same girl?" Rebecca resigned throwing household objects at Jean's head and slid down the front of her stove to sit on the floor. "Get out of my house," Rebecca whispered with a sniffle as she wiped a tear straying down her face.

Jean refused, "Rebecca, I did not cheat on you again, I swear."

Rebecca scoffed and her body shook, "I _just heard_ her on the phone with you, Jean! You just _called _her! I_ know_ her voice and I _know_ when some chick says that she wants you to fuck her like you did last Friday night _that you're cheating on me_!"

"Rebecca, her number and my parents' number is one number off! I didn't mean to call her! And she only said that I fucked her last Friday night because I had just told her I didn't mean to call her and you picked up the phone and I said your name when I heard a click and that's when she said that!" Jean illuminated with desperation.

"What are the chances that you misdialed _and_ she magically heard me pick up the phone before I spoke?" Rebecca interrogated in incredulity.

"I just explained it, Becca," Jean besought as he took infantile steps towards Rebecca as to not stimulate any volatile reactions. "The time I cheated on you, it was only because we had been apart so long and, you know, more excuses that you don't care about. But that was the only time. I love you and I would never make that same stupid fucking mistake twice."

"Sorry I don't beg you to fuck me, Jean," Rebecca satirically apologized as she ignored his statements.

Jean stooped in front of Rebecca, capturing her closed fist in his hand as she threw a punch, and plead, "Rebecca, I don't _want_ you to do _any_thing like that. I-" Rebecca tried to pry Jean's fingers back to unchain her wrist but Jean simply switched hands as the other was plied off. Jean become more discouraged, "What do I have to do to prove that I did not cheat on you again, Becca?"

"There's nothing you can do, you pig. I shouldn't have taken you back after the first time. I knew our trust would never be the same and now, it just doesn't exist," Rebecca glowered, creating upset in Jean.

He felt like throwing in the towel and parting but he nippily deemed that thought as cowardly, "Becca, I would never hurt you again like I have in the past. All that time we spent apart I only thought of how much I missed you."

Yet again, Rebecca disregarded Jean's declarations, "So what is it? Huh, Jean? Why don't you love me? Is my personality that insufferable or am I just really bad in bed?"

Jean gritted his teeth and clasped both of Rebecca's wrists, "It's _nothing_ like that. I do love you, Rebecca. And I love your personality. And you're marvelous in bed. I did not cheat on you again."

Rebecca wept and tried to deliver her wrists from Jean's hold, "Once a cheater, always a cheater."

"No, Rebecca!" Jean had never felt as serious about anything in his lifetime as he appealed with Rebecca, "This-"

Rebecca screamed at the top of her lungs and began kicking at Jean.

"_Get out of my house_!"

Jean attempted to catch Rebecca's flailing legs between his arm and torso until the phone rang. Rebecca spitefully remarked, "Better go answer the phone, Jean! That nymphomaniac is calling back!"

The telephone beside the stovetop shrilly rang a few more times before Jean liberated one of Rebecca's wrists to snag his fingers on the chord and tumble the receiver of the phone over the countertop edge and onto the floor, not allowing room for Rebecca to flee. Rebecca snatched up the phone before Jean could, "Whoever-"

Winry's imperative voice shone through, "Rebecca, could you please go check on Riza? Ed and I are at the train station; we're on our way back to Central. I would have called earlier but I was panicked and wasn't thinking straight."

"What's wrong with Riza?" Rebecca sniffled.

"Roy smashed up her house then left and she's hysterical."


End file.
